Scarlet Ambiguity
by Azure Serenity
Summary: Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong.
1. The Act

To all my dear readers, I'm sorry I've been MIA for so long—and haven't finished The secret behind yet… but since I don't want to go into endless excuses, I'll just present my newest finished work: Scarlet Ambiguity.

I wrote this for my awesomely wonderful best friend, Ri-chan!! It took me a while to get the ending done, and I've had this all finished in my hardrive for a couple of weeks—but today I'm finally posting it!! Yay!! Go me!!

Ok, I'm done blabbering, so just a few quick things…

I've changed my pen name to Azure Serenity, a lot of reasons to it, but it's a permanent change!!

This story is dedicated to Ri-chan!! I couldn't live without you my girl other half!!

Feedback is much appreciated, so drop a review at the end!!

And now… Enjoy!!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part I**

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Her eyes were narrowed as she glared at him, jaw clenched and fists tight, a vein throbbing in her forehead. Her rage came off of her in waves. He watched her, poker face on.

The only reason he had agreed to this pathetic plan was because a female was needed to infiltrate the premises—it was his only use for her—besides, she couldn't do much else, she was just a weak and pathetic girl who always needed to be protected—the reason why she had been assigned such a mission escaped him—not that he cared either way.

Her features darkened and twisted into a scowl, and he didn't care that she had been doing well so far.

"If you think that I like having to work with _you-_" She spat out, venom in each word she spoke. "-you're a complete idiot." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'd much rather be going through torture from Ibiki than being here with you." Her back was straight and he could see all her muscles tighten as she faced him head on, a murderous glare in place.

"Besides-" She crossed her arms defiantly. "I don't see you coming up with a better plan _genius_." The last word was clearly mocking, and he glared at her, but she just kept facing him head on.

He let out an annoyed breath as she turned away, walking towards the door and walking out of his room while grumbling _"2 hours, front lobby"_ and then slamming the door shut—the painting in the wall next to the door shook and settled sideways, one side higher than the other. This had been going on ever since they'd agreed to work together.

He scoffed when he heard the door of her room—right next to his—slam shut, she was just a temperamental kid, just like when they were younger. He sneered to himself, the only difference was that now she could talk back—she was still useless though, just a pathetic little girl.

With another scoff, he walked to the bed and opened his bag, taking out what he needed for the mission to get ready, the sooner he got it over with, the better.

2 hours later he walked into the lobby dotting civilian clothes—black slacks and a black button up shirt—and carrying his cloak over his arm (because hell, the weather was shitty in this godforsaken village), his face, hair and eyes in a simple—and undetectable—henge to seem as if he had copper brown hair styled much like Suigetsu and brown eyes, the whole matching his new face.

He narrowed his eyes when he didn't see her—all her complaining and she was late—but then the low buzz of her chakra reached him, and he almost expected it to come from the stairs—it didn't, it came from near the front desk.

The only reason he knew it was her was because of the chakra—that disappeared completely once he noticed her—because she didn't look, at all, like herself. Although, she hadn't changed any features.

Her hair, her eyes and her clothes were what changed her so much—short pink hair was now waist length and jet black, held by a blood red ribbon, her eyes, instead of forest green were vivid electric blue and she wore a black dress that reached her knees, strapless, with a blood red waist obi-like thing, without the bow at the back—it was more like a dress-incorporated-belt actually.

She looked like a completely different person, and the way she held herself told him that she knew what she was doing—he scoffed to himself at that, she was just a nuisance—even though a small (very, very, _very small_) voice at the back of his mind told him that, so far, as it concerned the mission, she had never slipped up and had done everything perfectly. Needless to say, he completely ignored the voice.

She spared him a cold glance before taking her cloak from the counter and slinging it over her shoulders as she walked towards the door, her black knee-length boots almost noiseless. With a sneer, he followed after her—he absolutely loathed this mission because of the fact he had to play tame-little-pet and she was the _master_.

The rain poured hard, unrelenting, and the wind blew with force as they walked towards the freak-show-house. When they got there, their cloaks were soaked, but their clothes weren't—special cloaks made to keep dry under it.

The hostess greeted them as usual, taking their cloaks to dry, and they were directed to the upper floor, a good sign, since only a selected few could.

The infiltration, so far, had been successful. Sakura—Kaorin for the mission—had mingled nicely with the other women, while said women ogled him, gossiped and whispered among themselves how lucky she was. She feigned casualness and embarrassment, while he just didn't mingle at all, just stayed in his own corner.

On the lower floor, the men stayed in one side while the women went to another to mingle. From there, a selection was made, and only a few went to the upper floor—and even so, those few might only come to see the upper floor once.

The fact that they were visiting the upper floor for the 3rd time was a sign that they were trusted—biggest mistake, but they didn't know that.

The night started as per usual, her mingling, him observing and gathering info, though—and it frustrated him—he couldn't do much since only the females were free to walk around while the males had to keep at bay, sitting on the sofas and stools like obedient-little-dogs.

He listened around—trained senses allowing him to listen to even the women whispering on the opposite side of the room. Most of the guys were talking among themselves about their masters—he found it pathetic that they let themselves be controlled by women—while most of the women were talking about their pets. Thoroughly pathetic.

Tuning out all the annoying gossiping voices, he caught Sakura's voice, talking to some other women as they sat around a table, sipping from their drinks. They were casually talking about politics, how the _club _they were in was ran and how powerful people were connected to the guy behind it all—a so called Nomi Eiri, the man his nuisance of a partner had to kill.

He sipped from his drink, ignoring the stares from several women, and kept his face blank, containing a scowl when the women Sakura was talking to started questioning her about him and what kind of fantasies she had him realize for her.

He noticed, with malicious and smug amusement, as she faltered and almost choked on her drink, trying to change the subject afterwards—it seemed that some things still got to her.

The other women didn't let go, probing for more while giggling. She composed herself and gave them what they wanted to hear, making up the details up as she went—he had to say, she was somehow creative. She played the innocent card well.

He watched—bored and frustrated—as the air suddenly shifted, _the_ time coming.

_The_ time was the time in the evening when all the fucked up shit started to happen, because then, well, then it was like an all-out messed up orgy—except for those _master & pet_ that didn't want to go at it in public or just watched.

Honestly, he thought it was disgusting.

On the lower floor, it was just a normal club of freaks—with the disgusting exception of women fondling their _pets _in ways normally considered inappropriate in public—except this was a freak show house, so it didn't surprise him, these people were seriously disturbed.

On the upper floor, the situation changed a little after a few hours into the night—at midnight, how creative.

After midnight, the mass orgy started—it was seriously disturbing to see the men degrading themselves. The newbies, the first 2 visits, were only allowed to watch—if they entered or tried to enter the_ game_, they were out.

If the _master & pet_ were allowed a 3rd time, then they were in.

The women started beaconing the men they had brought, and the morons walked—kid-in-a-candy-store look in place—to them, acting like tamed dogs.

As the disturbing fondling, grabbing, groping, kissing, and whatever else they did started, he caught the women Sakura had been talking to dispersing, only 2 of them staying to talk some more—though the topic was just as disgusting as this whole freak-show they had going on. They were trying to corner her into sharing him—_he wasn't a fucking pet like the other losers_—but she played shy and embarrassed, fiddling a few strands of her hair—subtly saying no.

The women pouted, but her denial of their wishes to have a piece of him—just the thought made him want to roast all of them with one of his Katon—wasn't mood-killing, in fact, they weren't giving up—they wanted to _see_. Oh fuck, he was sure he wasn't going to like this.

She glanced his way—looking shy and coy as the women giggled. Another part of the act.

He sent her a dark look, one that clearly said he would have her head in a stake if she made him participate in the freak-show—he saw her roll her eyes when the women weren't looking, followed by a dark look of her own. The women got her attention again, and she giggled alongside them to a stupid joke.

One of them—a brunette—nudged her in the ribs and giggled, glancing his way and then back to his almost-on-his-to-kill-list-partner-for-the-moment-being. She glanced his way too, playing shy and coy again, and turned to face him, the giggling women surrounding her as she raised a finger close to her chest and beaconed him to come—her eyes, as she gave the women her back, told him she'd rather be out of there the sooner she could—the disgust clearly there.

He internally sighed and took a deep breath—if he wanted to get the scroll, he needed to play the part, no matter how disgusting and disturbing it was. Torture from Ibiki was starting to sound really inviting.

He got up from his seat and casually walked towards her—expertly avoiding the mass of nude or half-nude people—and when he reached her, she made the show of blushing and of shyly tugging at his sleeve, bringing him closer to herself until her forehead almost touched his shoulder.

The women, a few feet behind her, giggled, eyes eager to see what would happen—he contained the gagging reflex.

She made show of squirming against him as he kept in place—hands still shoved in his pockets—and spoke, her voice just loud enough that only he could hear.

"We need to get into one of the rooms." Her left hand—that was on open view for the giggling, stupid women watching—started fiddling with his shirt over his chest—and the women squealed. When she spoke next, her words dripped with disgust.

"We need to play the part." She paused, the hand she had hidden between their bodies clenching and unclenching in frustration. "At least partially, and we need to be convincing." The fingers of her right hand twisted on his shirt, her fingers digging painfully on his abdomen—a warning, a threat. "So get the stick out of your ass and don't fuck it up, got it?" her last words were in a hiss, her fingers digging on his abdomen pressing harder as her chakra touched his skin—a jolt that felt like acid on his skin where her fingers touched—he would have missed it if they weren't so close.

He took his left hand from his pocket and took hold of her elbow—a seemingly gentle gesture, but he had his tricks too—a few microscopic electric needles piercing her skin where he touched.

She drew back, giggling for the show as her eyes murderously glared—he would have given her a smug smirk, had he not needed to play the part of tame-pet.

The women—stupid and disgusting—giggled and squealed, whispering among themselves how obedient he was.

They swarmed around them like a pack of dogs in heat and whined and begged for her to share him—_just a little, please_. He would kill her if she let those women assault him.

She didn't, playing her part, and hugged his arm—like a child would hug a plushie—and looked up at him, a shy—fake—smile on her lips as she giggled—another fake for the show.

He sensed how she tightened her hold on his arms so her frustration wouldn't show as the women kept insisting in whiny voices—she spoke in a just as whiny voice, giving a sense of finality to the conversation that made the women pout, but relent.

"Iyada." She tugged at his arm like a brat throwing a tantrum. "Mashiro-kun's mine!" the women pouted and looked at him, as if asking him to ditch his_ master_ for them—she wasn't his master and they disgusted him. Sakura, in the meanwhile, and taking notice of the looks—her hold tightened again with a small tremble—looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent, like a child.

"Ne, ne, Mashiro-kun." She made herself sound just like a child too. "You're mine, ne? You just like Kao-chan, ne?" the women watched her, now quiet, as she acted almost desperate, holding on to him—seemingly in almost despair, really holding back her frustration—and looked up at him, her now electric blue eyes shining and watering as she moved to stand in front of him, clutching his shirt—he had to give her some credit, she was good…well, _kinda._

"Mashiro-kun." She sounded almost broken, as if she was about to cry. "It's just me right?" her fingers loosened—as if she was giving up—and she looked down, putting up the show of being about to cry as she sniffed—ok, maybe she was actually good, not just kinda. "Y-you promised." She sniffed again, and the women behind her were either about to cry at the dramatics of the scene or looking smug, as if they knew he would come to them.

For the sake of the mission—and really, for his own sake—he decided to go with the less of 2 evils (figuratively speaking) and decided to play the part—after all, he'd rather have to put up with the annoying-temporary-teammate than to have to go with any of these seriously messed up women. So he lifted his hand—his left, his right still in his pocket—and ran his fingers through her cheek—an empty gesture that looked like a caress to anyone who didn't know they were acting.

She lifted her head a little, looking at him through her lashes—her frustration at having to do this quickly masked with fake distress and tears for the act—and then he cupped her cheek, fingers lingering—Kami, he had to summon all his will and patience—as he slowly let them slide downwards to her jaw, deliberately lifting her face so that she could look up at him with fake distress, equally fake tears almost falling and a slightly quivering lower lip—as if she was actually about to cry.

_(When she cried, her eyes showed her every emotion, showing how much her soul broke. When she cried, she bit her lower lip to try to keep her composure.)_

The women—a larger number of them now (how pathetic)—were all eagerly waiting what would happen next, some even holding their breath—only a few, the ones who had wanted him to ditch her, were looking pissed off.

She sniffed again—her eyes briefly showing how much she wanted to get out of there—and he let his hand cup her cheek again, making the show of keeping her face up—though he knew she'd keep it up for the sake of the show, for the sake of the mission.

"You talk too much." He didn't bother trying to sound emotional and all that crap, nor did he bother to try and change the way he acted—but she'd already known that.

In the background, some women gasped—probably not used to such blunt words—but _'Kaorin'_ just kept looking up at him, her eyes still wide and teary—he was going to need some serious relaxing and meditating to forget this hellhole.

"Mashiro-kun." Her voice sounded small and fragile, as if she was on the verge of breaking, and he had to admit to himself that she was good. From the background, he heard a lot of women gossiping on how mean he was being, but he just ignored, they were petty idiots that didn't care about much else than their own pleasures.

He sighed—as if he was about to explain something to a child, which, as far as the act went, wasn't far from the truth, the shy and innocent act was so they could get into one of the rooms and not—he mentally shuddered—on the mass orgy going on around them.

"How many times do I have to tell you." He sounded annoyed—and actually was—as he took a deep breath—both for the dramatics and to calm himself and form an action plan—only to conclude he had to wing it, so he went with what he'd seen here and there while they had been having to come there for the past days—10 days now—and lowered his head to be at eye level with her, their faces close—too close for comfort, but they had a mission that required it, so he sucked it up. She, on her turn, blinked, her fingers fidgeting with his shirt—he had a feeling she was making an effort not to rip the cloth in frustration.

"It's only you." He lowered his voice, not quite for the dramatics—though it contributed to it—but because saying things like that… he wasn't used to it, it wasn't in him to say things like that.

There was a cooed _"aww"_ on the background as the women squealed—a sound he was starting to loathe.

"Really?" she made her best to sound like a small child, unsure and confused, but he saw the way her eyes shifted to look around and how her teeth clenched—now, wasn't she having the time of her life?

He gave a curt nod—not about to repeat those words or something of the kind—and let the hand on her cheek slide back until his fingers were intertwined in her now jet black hair.

She didn't look away from him—her fingers holding his shirt tighter for the show as she moved slightly closer—and a forced reddish blush adorned her cheeks as she smiled shyly.

"Just me, ne?" the women were all squealing and giggling, hearts in their eyes as they played their little charade. He nodded again, holding the urge to break something in, and twisted his fingers in her hair—soft and silky he noted as he thought of what to do next.

"I promised didn't I?" a smile tugged at her lips—wide, happy and childish—but he could see that, even as she did her best, the smile didn't truly reach her eyes.

Another chorused _'aww'_ came from the women, followed by giggles and squeals and whispers of how they looked so cute and how they knew he was going to kiss her.

On his shirt, her fingers twitched, probably having heard the same thing as he had, but she did nothing to stop him when he lowered his lips to hers—even if she wanted, she couldn't or she'd blow their cover.

She let her eyes close, forcing a redder blush to her cheeks as they kissed—close-mouthed and soft—and a few seconds later, he pulled back, getting his hand back and straightening as he ran a hand through his hair. It'd been supposed to be a get in and get out mission, not a drama act in a freak-show.

She giggled—a sound fake to his ears—as she hugged his arm again, his hand back to his pocket. The women, he noted, were no longer gossiping about him—at least not about ways to get him. It seemed that the little charade they had put up—dear lord, thank you—made the point across that he wouldn't be going to any other women.

The women that had been watching started to disperse to go do whatever obscene thing they would be going to do as Sakura made show of dragging him towards a free couch in a corner, around 5 feet away from the door they would hopefully be going through for a room in order to be able to go venture further into the premises to get the mission done and over with.

"Never thought you'd have it in you." At her whisper—too low for anyone else than him to hear—he snorted quietly. She didn't say anything else until they reached the couch, subtly pushing him into it without trouble—he shot her a glare at that, to which she raised a brow—and then sat on his lap, curling up into him and laying her head on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck.

"One word." She hissed, the underlying message of pain not passing unnoticed. "See that guy near the bar with the red shirt?" he casually looked where she mentioned, letting himself slide a little in the couch in the pretense of getting comfortable and loosely—and begrudgingly—wrapping his arms around her.

He saw who she had mentioned—the guy in the red shirt—looking straight at them as if analyzing them.

"He's the one that says if you get to go inside or not." She didn't sound one bit pleased with that particular fact as she wrapped her hands around his neck, fingers twisting raven black turned into copper brown hair, her lips now over his jugular so no one would notice if she spoke.

"From what I got from the whiny banshees, he only lets someone go in if he gets a good enough show." She made a noise of disgust. "These people are sick." His lips tugged upward—they agreed in that, the disgust for this place that is.

He glanced down at her, nudging her slightly in a way that asked 'what next?' and she sighed, leaning her forehead against his neck, her fingers twitching, he presumed, in annoyance and/or frustration—probably both.

"We need to give him a good show." She shuddered against him. "But really." She paused and leaned away from him, her expression set into one of giddiness—betraying her true thoughts—as she faced him. "We just wing it."

And with that she kissed him—passion and depth the main ingredients.

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**End of Part I**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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Hope you liked it and want what comes next!!

Let me know what you thought of it!!

Since I've already finished it, I'll be posting a new chapter every week – there should be about 4 or 5, I'm not sure, I haven't really divided the whole thing yet…

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

_April 2nd 2010_

_April 9th 2010 (updated)_


	2. The Fight

Hi everyone!!

Like I promised, one week later, and here's part 2 of SA!!

Hope everyone likes it, as always, feedback and constructive criticism are very much welcomed!!

Now, just a few quick things:

Just like every other chapter since I wrote this story for her, part II is dedicated to Ri-chan!

Quick shoot-out to _**Twisted Musalih**_, _**nassima123**_, _**LittleGreenWolf**_, _**the tomato**_, _**SakuBunny**_ and _**Chantrea Moonbeam**_! Thanks for the reviews everyone, I loved them, so keep p''em coming!!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part II**

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Somehow… they'd gotten inside the door—he thanked kami-sama he didn't have to hear or see the freak show going on in the main room anymore—and inside a room.

Apparently their little kissing and fake squirming—from her of course, Uchiha's do not squirm ever—performance—

He groaned—inwardly of course—Oh, Kami-sama, he hated the simple fact that he had to admit it to himself, but the kisses—

He mentally kicked himself in the ass and obliterated those thoughts from his mind, focusing his attention on the dark hallway—what was it with creeps and dark hallways anyway?—as they walked towards their goal—the soon-to-be-dead-boss and the soon-to-be-gone-scrolls.

They walked side by side—because for some reason she refused to walk behind him and he simply refused to walk behind anyone—using as little chakra as possible—which meant he couldn't use his sharingan—and keeping alert in case someone decided to show up.

They were almost at the stairs that lead to the creep's—what was his name again?—private quarters when they heard footsteps—coming from both sides of the hallway. But that wasn't the worst thing—Kami-sama was probably having a good laugh at their account—the worst thing was that there weren't any doors around—and the steps kept getting closer.

He heard a string of profanities coming out of her mouth in angry whispers as she looked around—until her eyes landed on him and she glared—he inwardly rolled his eyes.

"Well, aren't you being helpful." He narrowed his eyes at her hissed words, but she just raised an eyebrow and straightened in defiance.

After a couple of seconds of silence, he scoffed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "If you haven't noticed, we have nowhere to hide." She gestured her arms.

"No shit Sherlock." In agitation at the oncoming footsteps, she ran a hand through her hair, scrunching her nose when her fingers ran through hair longer than shoulder length. "Now can you tell me something that actually helps?" her hissed words were rushed as she clenched and unclenched her fists—any minute now and the people walking towards them would reach them.

He tried to formulate a plan that would ensure their cover wasn't blown and that wasn't something frustrating to do—he came out blank on plans—they couldn't hide, couldn't fake casualness and walk back towards where they came from and couldn't just get rid of whoever it was either.

Damn it, that just left—

Just before the people walking towards them could notice their conspicuous presence in the middle of the hallway, he reached out grabbing, her upper arm, and pulled her to him—she quietly squeaked in surprise and looked at him with an incredulous glare, which he ignored—and, just as swiftly as he'd pulled her, he slanted his mouth against hers.

In a place like this, he knew an almost-innocent kiss wouldn't do, so—ignoring her murdering glare—he turned them around and pressed her against the wall while pressing his body against hers—he really hated biology at that moment—his mouth against hers, unyielding, while his tongue parted her lips—he found it a boost to his ego when her eyes closed and she kissed back—even if somewhat unwillingly.

The steps grew closer and closer, and, just like before, they had to do their best—which meant they had to wing it—so he let one of his hands fist at the back of her neck entangling his fingers in her silk-like hair—frustratingly by instinct instead of rationalizing thought—while the other ran down her body—down her shoulder, down the curve of her chest and waist, down her hip until he had his hand at her thigh—in a swift movement he lifted her leg over his hip—at that moment, her arms wrapped around his neck, her finger tugging at his hair.

The kiss was all but innocent and the touches seemed more intimate than they really were—but although they were basically improvising, whoever was passing bough the stunt. The men that came from where they had come from coughed awkwardly and kept walking while the one that came from the stairs scoffed and threw some snide remarks their way—which they ignored or the man would have ended up with at least a new face.

He broke the kiss after some time—nothing like being careful in case one of the passerby's decided to come back—and looked down the hall, focusing on the darkness to make sure no one else would bother with the progress of—he hated it for being like that—their mission.

Just when he concluded that they were safe to keep going, she pushed him away—he bumped into the wall behind him none too gently—throwing him the nastiest look he'd ever seen in her face and then she started walking down the hallway again, hissing something—disturbingly—about castration, torture and some kind of drugs.

He followed with a glare, but refrained from saying anything.

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Σ(ﾟ∀´(┗┐ヽ(･∀･ )ﾉ

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He was really starting to get tired of it. And annoyed. And frustrated. And did he mention tired? He swore that if they didn't reach the bastard soon, he was going to do something rash and possibly stupid—like burning walls to dust.

What was it with creeps and dark endless hallways that ended in stairs only to connect to more dark endless hallways? He had no idea—what he did know was that it was getting on his nerves.

In front of him—because, apparently, she was pissed off at him—Sakura suddenly stopped and tilted her head. When he reached her side and cast her a sideways—blank—glance, a surprisingly creepy and sadistic grin was etched on her face as she cracked her knuckles.

"Any questions you may want to ask the creep?" her voice was low and dangerous—he didn't like it—and he had the odd feeling that the only reason she was asking was out of farfetched courtesy.

"Hn." She rolled her eyes and gave him an 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' look.

"Oh, for the love of—" Came as a mumble. "That's not an answer—it's not even a word you dumbass." He glared at her as she started walking again—his glare only deepened with the words she spoke next.

"And stop glaring, you'll get wrinkles before you're 30." A few more jabs like that and she so was on his to-kill list—to kill after he had the scrolls he needed.

She stopped in front of the—how fuckin' inventive—massive reinforced steel with several locks and seals door and he noticed her grin again.

He raised an eyebrow at her—how in hell were they going to open that beast?—and she just rolled her eyes and shook her head while sighing. She extended her arms—hands connected—and cracked her knuckles once more, flexing her fingers after.

He tried—and frustratingly failed—to keep up, but the sequence of seals her hands did was too fast to follow. A second after she finished the seals, she touched the door in front of her—and something weird seemed to happen to their surroundings. The weird feeling that they were being involved in a bubble came over him, and he didn't like it one bit.

"What was that?" he hissed, to which she—infuriatingly—just shrugged.

"That was creating silence." She spoke it as if she was stating a fact—and he kindamaybepossibly panicked when the next second she flicked her fingers on the door and said door was propelled backwards—not at all silently—and slammed into the opposite wall, denting said wall—deeply—making the bookshelves shake—books randomly falling—and causing one of the paintings in the wall to fall to the floor.

"What the fuck—" he cut himself off as a round of kunai flew their way. He evaded quickly—cursing her for being careless—but when he looked at her, she seemed calm—bored even.

Just when he was about to lash out on her for causing a ruckus, she looked at him with a serious, business-like, to-the-point look and spoke.

"The jutsu surrounds an area the width the user wants and makes it in sort that all sounds produced inside the—" she paused and waved her hand while looking towards the closed door to her left—where the creep had ran to. "—bubble stay inside." she smiled tightly—a smile as fake as they get—and started moving towards the door.

The moment they entered the other room, a series of weapon was thrown at them as 2 guards attacked them—Sakura punched one, sending him crashing into the wall and knocking him out, and he paralyzed the other with his Chidori needles.

Looking around the room—wary of the man just a few feet from them wielding a kusari-gama—he located the vault on the farthest corner of the room—a seemingly hugeass thing.

"So…" she seemed nonchalant as she looked at him while twirling a kunai between her fingers. "Any questions for the creep or can I just go for it?!" the look on her face said disgust plus frustration plus agitation—which lead him to believe that the quicker the mission was accomplished the happier she'd get. When she raised a brow, he just shrugged.

"None of my business what you do with him." before she faced the man—that apparently had been throwing insults and empty threats at them—and became poker faced, he saw something akin to gratitude in them—that confused him somewhat because he couldn't fathom why she would be grateful.

The man—apparently an idiot—decided to attack him first—he didn't like it, but he was realistic enough to admit that kunoichi could be just as strong as shinobi. It wasn't hard to evade the man—the problem to get to him was his ginormous army and tight security—and he quickly disarmed him by grabbing the chain connecting the twin weapons and just standing back as his—temporary—partner moved fast until she was behind the man.

Her approach, he mused, wasn't very bright considering the man was reputed for his dirty tricks—but he had to admit that something akin to respect and pride for her rose when she lightly touched the man's neck from behind—fingertips lightly glowing pale green—and then the guys eyes widened in horror as he fell down in a heap the next second. Respect because of her skills, pride because she was skilled—and his teammate, even if temporary—and he only acknowledged the best, only worked with the best.

With an unreadable look on her face, she squatted down and touched the man's neck again—fingers still glowing green. He stood attentive to the man—only to realize that after a couple of seconds of her touch, the man's chakra system faded—the creep was dead.

She ran her fingers over the man's eyes and closed them before getting up—even to a guy like that, she still wore her heart on her sleeve, she was still compassionate.

She didn't look at him—at all—as she moved towards the vault—for some reason, he gave her the space she seemed to need. As she worked on the vault—this time with grace as she moved her hands slowly over the metal, her chakra undoing the locks and seals—he stood back watching her, musing over the fact that some things seemed to always be there—a constant in everyone. Even if—he had noticed—she had a temper, as he watched her eliminate the sleazy bastard, he realized that she hadn't completely changed—so maybe he was just admitting it now, he didn't care.

She was still compassionate—she still had a heart.

A few seconds passed and then there was a series of clicks followed by the massive door of the vault opening to reveal a room maybe bigger than the office they were in.

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（。_° ＼(- - )

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When they entered the vault, he had the urge to sigh, roll his eyes and break something at the same time. The reason was simple—actually, the multiple reasons were the jars, vials and, huh, things that were lined on the walls, shelves and tables inside the vault containing all sorts of animals—whole or in parts—dubious substances and various body parts.

It reminded him of Orochimaru's labs—it also slightly disgusted him, though he kept his opinion to himself.

Sakura on the other hand, though silent, was clenching her fists as she walked towards the scrolls at the back of the room—he amusedly though that maybe the gross and disgusting stuff was always near the door to discourage further entrance.

He walked calmly behind his partner—temporary, he reminded himself—and watched as she suddenly stopped—giving him her profile—and clenched her fists harder to the point where he could see the veins over her knuckles as the blood flow seemed to stop.

Her face was pale—paler than normal—and he knew that she'd probably—momentarily—forgotten that he was there, because, at that moment, her clear forest green eyes were like open books and he could clearly see the disgust, outrage and revulsion in them.

Curious as to why she suddenly looked like she was sick, he glanced at what she was looking at—the sight was quite disturbing. He had known Orochimaru was a sick bastard with his experiments, but not quite this sick. In the shelves, pots of various sizes contained unborn children—from small fetuses to birth-sized babies.

The normal sized babies—and he openly admitted to himself that the sigh disturbed him—looked agonized, as if they had been forced into the jars by force and drowned in them. Somehow, he understood why she looked as if she could just throw up.

When he reached her, he nudged her forward—pushed her shoulder so she had to take a step forward. She looked at him bewildered, but after a second—in which she closed her eyes and swallowed—she looked at him in gratitude and walked forward and away from the disturbing jars.

Casting one last glance at the shelves, he joined her at the back of the vault, where she was going through scrolls, files and books. Not about to let her do all the searching over the countless documents, he joined in on the silent search for what they were looking for—and possibly other documents of interest.

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(/-_・)/D・・・・・------ → (;/゜o゜)/

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Every scroll, book, file and paper that held their interest was gathered in a table inside the vault—every single scrap that could remotely be of use, they took.

At some point it occurred to him that, since he had only came for one particular scroll, carrying everything out of three would be a challenge—his temporary-not-so-useless-after-all partner rose to the challenge.

Apparently she had predicted that she may find several files of interest and had brought a sealing scroll—a very tiny one, no wider than a pencil and about 1 inch in length, that she pulled out of nowhere—metaphorically speaking.

Once they'd went through the whole vault and couldn't find anything else of interest, she sealed the pile of scrolls, books and whatnot on the tiny scroll and with a graceful movement, slid the tiny cylinder between her breasts—he involuntarily followed the movement of her fingers through the corner of his eyes until she pulled her fingers out from between the light, slightly tanned, peach colored skin of her cleavage.

As they exited the vault, she cast a glance at the unborn babies in the jars and as she kept walking forward—her face carefully blank—he noticed her fists clenching. Other than that, she was tightly in control of herself.

Getting out of the disgusting hellhole was the part in which they had to be careful. Once they were back to the upper level and outside the door that'd lead to the disgusting sex-fest, the act was back—had to be back.

Before they exited, they shared a glance of mutual understanding that they had to 'play their cards' well not to be found out. She hesitated on the doorknob and then turned to him, not looking directly at him—she didn't meet his gaze directly since she'd seen the jars in the vault.

Her fingers moved towards his shirt, and when she started unbuttoning the buttons, he started questioning her with a hissed "What the fuck are doing?", only for her to shrug and answer in an uncharacteristically emotion-void voice.

"As far as the freaks are concerned, what we did in the 'room' was the same as what they're doing out there. It's common knowledge that after sex, the brain gets too fogged up in chemical bliss." She cast him a quick glance and returned to unbuttoning and buttoning his shirt, the buttons one hole above the one intended.

"People aren't completely neat after." And with that he got her point. But when she moved her fingers to loosen his belt and unbutton the top button of his past, he felt more than slightly awkward and uncomfortable.

She took a step backwards and then proceeded to mess up her clothing, twisting her dress slightly and undoing and doing the belt-like-obi-thing around her waist so it looked crooked. For further effect, she wrinkled her dress. Her hair came next—she took out the red ribbon and then slung her hair forward, her hands messing it up, and then she slung it in place again, smoothing it so that it looked decent enough for what they were supposed to be coming from. The ribbon was probably the only thing that wasn't wrinkled.

Before she opened the door, she turned back to him and hesitated for a moment before looking up at him—not really meeting his eyes—and running her fingers through his hair and messing it up for the benefit of the act.

When they entered the all-out mass orgy going on—he mentally shuddered in disgust at the sight—they acted for a little while, she acting embarrassed and shy while he, well, he remained stoic by her side.

When they left, he got their cloaks from the hostess, putting his on as he walked back to his teammate-for-the-moment's side with hers—but before he could actually hand it to her, she was out the door and into the pouring rain.

He followed her with a frown on his face into the pouring rain. She stopped in the middle of the street and looked at the sky, her back facing him—she'd been in the rain for no more than a minutes and she was already soaked from the downpour, her clothes and long black hair clinging to her skin.

He kept eyeing her with a frown, a few steps away from her, as she looked down and, impossibly graceful, lifted on foot back, bending slightly to get her heeled shoe off, and then repeating the process with the remaining shoe, letting her feet touch the muddy streets.

Slowly, as she started to walk down the deserted street, he started feeling the faint waver of her chakra—the feeling of knowing why her chakra was wavering had him doing a double take. The fact that he even had that feeling had him gritting his teeth in exasperation—he didn't care, at all, so why did he know why her chakra was wavering wh—

He cut his thoughts short and let her walk in front of him, her heeled sandals one in each hand and her temporarily long black hair clinging to the skin of her shoulders and back. She walked with her shoulders straight and her head held high, yet, as the low buzzing of her chakra kept wavering all around him, he knew—and he despised himself for knowing—that despites her headstrong posture, she was still crying—still being so annoyingly emotional that he found himself wanting her to disappear from his sigh.

Yet, no matter how hard he tried forcing himself to scowl or glare at her, he found himself unable too—she was still strong in her weakness, and even though he couldn't understand because he lacked the emotions, a very small part of him respected her for not breaking down like he expected from the girl he'd left unconscious on a stone bench years ago.

When they arrived at the inn and entered—the keeper long asleep on his bed—he went straight for the stairs, but on his 5th step, he looked back, noticing the lack of the sound of her steps. She was still by the entrance, soaked and dripping—every inch of her skin covered in water—her eyes closed, head still held high, as she took deep breaths—her chest expanded slowly as she breathed in… and out… in… and out… in… and out.

As her breathing returned to normal, she slowly opened her eyes—what he saw in them took him off guard. There was no helplessness, anguish or sadness in tear filled eyes. There were no tears.

Her eyes were a clear shade of emerald, translucent even, shining with the dim lighting—what he saw in them was a calm that almost scared him, calm and understanding, almost peacefulness.

She met his eyes, her face reflecting the passive calm she seemed to feel. That look—of utter understanding of the cruel world they lived him—was a look he wasn't used to. It was a look that made him surrender to the fact that she had changed. She wasn't the same helpless crybaby little girl he'd left behind with everything else.

Haruno Sakura had changed.

The thought echoed in his mind as she walked towards him with a gracefulness he was sure most women would die for, her steps light accompanied by the sound of water slowly dripping to the floor from her soaked form.

Her chakra wasn't buzzing—or wavering—anymore, now only a soothing presence, like a summer breeze. It fluttered around him—soft and lingering like butterflies.

Her eyes shone—entranced him unwillingly—as she walked to the stairs, stopping at the step he was at—their bodies oh-so-close—and faced him—he did the same.

"I need a quick shower and then we can go over what we gathered." Her voice seemed ethereal as she spoke—calm and soft.

He gave a nod. "Aa." She smiled briefly and then they both traveled up the stairs, down the hall and into her room.

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**End of Part II**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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Hope you liked Part II!! Stay tuned, Part III'll come next week!!

So, tell me what you thought of this, reviews make my day!!

And speaking of reviews, I'd like to have at least 12 reviews when next Friday comes… and tell you what, if I get more than 12 reviews by Tuesday, I'll post part III on Wednesday, with extra pages!!

Anyway, just one more quick things.

I revised part I, but no changes to the plot were made, just fixed some grammar stuff, so no worries.

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

April 9th 2010


	3. The Monster

Hi hi everyone!!

Yay !! I did get my 12 reviews! But since it didn't go beyond that, I'm just updating today—it's very late, I know, but, well… what matters is that it's here, not the excuses I'd be pouring out as to why it's here!

So, I'll be brief today.

First of all, quick shoot-out to _**Twisted Musalih**_, _**Chantrea Moonbeam, Japanese-Fanatic, .E.O.1 and only, LittleGreenWolf**_ and _**the tomato**_**!** Thanks for the reviews everyone, I loved hearing from you guys, so keep 'em coming!!

And now enjoy! And, of course, leave a review at the end! =3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part III**

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Much like him, her belongings were composed only of what she strictly needed for the mission—a standard backpack with necessary props, a weapons' pouch and a medic bag.

She fished a few items of clothing from her bag and then, before she moved away from the bed—where her backpack was—towards the bathroom, he tried to force himself not to, but his eyes—in unwilling enthrallment—followed the movement of her right hand as she slid her fingers between the moist skin of her cleavage to retrieve the tiny scroll. He watched in self-loathing fascination as a droplet of rain water ran down the side of her neck, over her collarbone and slid in between her breasts just as her fingers came out with the scroll.

Gritting his teeth and mentally kicking himself, he forced himself to look away from her, instead looking out of the window into the barely visible over the pouring rain streets.

A few seconds later, he heard her open the bathroom door—when a couple of seconds passed and the door didn't close, he directed his blank gaze to her. She tilted her head, her pupils still a translucent emerald green.

"You can look over the files while I shower." He raised a brow but she just turned around and locked herself in the bathroom.

He thought to himself how stupid the idea was, because really, only the user could open the sealed scrolls—especially the kind she had used. He silently scoffed to himself, as he cast a glance around the room—intent on just going back to watching the sickening pouring rain—when he caught all the documents they had brought from the vault on the bed.

With nothing better to do, and forcing himself not to focus on the sounds of running water coming from the bathroom—thankfully succeeding—he went over the files.

He found the scroll he had come for easily and then browsed through the rest, gathering the few he had found that caught his interest. After setting those aside, he sat on the bed and started randomly browsing through the other documents, none really catching his attention.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened—he briefly glanced up to see his partner-for-the-moment coming out wearing black shorts that reached mid-thigh and a navy blue spaghetti strap top. She was holding a pale yellow towel over her head, drying her back-to-normal shoulder-length pastel pink locks.

She padded silently through the room, taking her backpack from the bed and then walking to the table on the other side of the room, where—he noticed—her medical bag and kunai pouch lay, as well as some kind of uniform and a ninjato.

He shrugged it off and went back to browsing through the files, the silence in the room not a bad one as the rain kept falling down—kami, he fucking hated the weather of the damned shithole of a village. He hated the godforsaken village, period.

After going through all the documents, he got up and scooped up his small pile—maneuvering the files, scrolls and books without looking—and then walked out of the her room and into his, silently closing the doors behind himself.

He dropped the pile of gathered papers on the bed and stripped—his clothes smelled like alcohol, smoke and—disgustingly—sweat and sex that had been going at the disgusting all-out mass-orgy brothel. He decided that he'd use the strongest detergent after disinfecting the clothes in pure ethanol.

The lukewarm water of the shower soothed his muscles, though some—particularly the ones in the left side of his neck and shoulder as well as the upper part of his stomach and chest—still ached dully, the pain something he sometimes forgot for its constant presence.

Closing his eyes—just focusing on the water hitting his body to try to prevent the almost certain oncoming headache—he braced his hands against the tiled wall—arms outstretched and palms open—letting his head drop down, his hair losing its spikes and clinging to his skin as the water rained down on his body.

As the water started losing temperature, he found himself wondering why a creep like whatshisface-his-teammate-for-the-moment-killed had come to get the scroll he had come for—and all those other documents for the matter.

He dismissed the thought quickly, he didn't care about why the creep did, he had the scroll, and that's all that mattered.

Turning the water off as it turned freezing cold—he had enough cold water outside, he didn't need it in the shower as well—and walking out the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back into the room towards the bag with his clean clothes.

Drying himself up in the dark, he pulled out a pair of navy blue tight-fitting boxers from his bag.

_(He'd secretly started wearing this type of underwear when, years ago, on one of his first team missions, he'd seen the flashy orange loose short-like boxers Naruto wore, and then, on some random occasion, the withies Lee used.)_

After running the towel over his head just to take the excess of water, he threw it over the pile of clothes he had worn today on the floor, and then easily slid the boxers over his hips.

When he reached for the documents on the bed to seal them, his eyes narrowed as he scanned over them again—only to find the scroll he had to infiltrate that hellhole for gone.

"Fuck." Now he had to go back to the pink haired girls' room to get it, something he'd pass on if possible.

Lovely.

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( 　￣)y―oo0O0O〇○**

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With a frustrated grunt, he ran a hand over his still damp hair and walked back to his bag—no matter what, he wasn't about to just walk into her room without at least pants on, after all, no matter how much she had changed she had still been, at one point, a very annoying fangirl. Granted—and he only begrudgingly admitted it to himself—the least annoying of the bunch, but still a fangirl.

As he fastened the last of the 5 buttons of his black shinobi pants, for good measure, he fished into his bag and pulled the black t-shirt over his head.

Such a fuckin' idiot. He cursed himself—he should have checked to see if he had everything, it was a rookie mistake not to.

With an annoyed sigh, he left his room and walked to hers, silently opening the door. He expected her to either be asleep—he'd spent quite some time in the shower and it was almost 5 a.m.—or going through the documents they'd gotten from the vault. He was a little—just a little, tiny, microscopic bit—surprised that she was doing neither. The documents were still where he'd left them on the bed while she was standing near the window with the lights out, slightly leaning her left shoulder against the wall that framed the window.

She stood there, staring at the rain pouring outside, looking dazed—she seemed to be thinking, or maybe not thinking at all, just lost in her wandering thoughts.

Her skin glowed white—contrasting with the dark clothes she wore—her hair, instead of pastel pink, seemed coral pink with silver highlights due to the blurred light coming from the streets and her eyes seemed like dark crystalline emeralds. Because of the rain, shadows went and came over her skin—she looked… ethereal.

She blinked slowly and sighed softly, her left hand—that rested over the elbow of her outstretched right arm—shifted slightly.

For some reason he didn't understand, he found himself walking towards her, his rational thoughts suddenly useless as his body seemed to act on its own. Just a step away from her, he stopped, trying to will his body away and out—instead, he took the remaining step forward, as if he was a magnet being pulled towards a magnetic field, and wrapped his arms around her—his left around her shoulders and his right around her waist—his chest pressed against her back.

At that point, he had no idea what to expect—either from himself or from her—so he couldn't tell if he was surprised or not when she didn't do anything other than straighten so she no longer leaned against the wall.

With a silent sight to himself—_what the hell am I doing_—he glanced down at her. The realization that she was shorter than him made him wonder how he hadn't noticed before—she was probably 6/7 inches shorter than him, her face coming level with his neck and jaw. A ghost of an amused smirk crossed his face as he wondered if perhaps the reason was her newfound spitfire attitude—perhaps because, so far, she'd been headstrong, all insults and glares.

Scoffing to himself in slight amusement, he cut his train of thoughts—letting his mind go blank—and lowered his head, his forehead resting against her right shoulder. The dark room was soothingly quiet, the only sounds presents their low breathing and the heavy pitter patter of the rain outside.

Her breathing was slow and rhythmic—he could feel her chest expanding and her stomach contracting with each breath she took—and he breathed in a slow rhythm much like hers. At the moment, with his mind devoid of any specific thoughts, her scent surrounded him, filling his lungs and overpowering his other senses.

She smelled… like the forest after it rained and some kind of flower, but not cherry blossoms—not lilies or jasmine either. What was it again? Oh, right, Magnolias.

She smelled like rain and magnolias. No perfume, just her, soap and shampoo. He'd prefer he didn't, but he liked it, the way she smelled soothed him—almost comforted him.

_(His mother used to carry around the faint scent of orange blossoms.)_

Her quiet sigh almost escaped him, but the moment he felt her lean her head against his—still resting on her shoulder—his previous relaxed state vanished and he gritted his teeth, controlling himself so his fists didn't clench.

What the hell was he doing? Here, with her. And why was he holding her of all things?

It frustrated him, the way he was reacting to her.

So he decided it needed to end.

"How stupid." He spoke in a low tone and her body instantly stiffened. "A ninja should never let their guard down." He scoffed. "It's a sign of weakness." He could feel her rage before she did anything.

"What did you say…?" her words were a whisper. What happened next, he was thankful for his fast reflexes. Her shoulders tensed and she twisted around, her fist clenched and her arm drawing back for a punch. "You fuckin' prick." Not a whisper anymore—far from it.

Just before her chakra infused fist connected to his jaw and broke something, he moved out of the way—watching as her eyes seemed to glow with rage and her face turned red in anger. The millisecond before he moved out of the way, he slightly threw her off balance, and after being in safety distance, watched as she seemed to trip over her own feet and fell face first on the floor—her chakra infused fist making a cavity in the floor.

He couldn't help the amused chuckle that escaped a moment later—she trembled and glowered at him, her hair wild, some strands falling over her face. "What the fuck are you laughing at you son of a bitch?"

She came at him again—fire in her eyes. The way her eyes darkened in undiluted rage each time he dodged—because he knew that insane strength of hers could do heavy damage and he wasn't an idiot—amused him, and with a smirk on his face, he answered her question—even though he knew it was supposed to be rhetorical.

"You." His answer was fuel added to the fire as she started coming at him more swiftly and quickly.

Deciding to stop the cat-and-mouse game—no matter how much it amused him to watch her attempts at hitting him—he used his speed and caught her wrists in his hands, holding one over her head and twisting her other arm behind her back so she couldn't move.

She glared death and murder up at him—making the height difference seem insignificant—and struggled against his grip.

He honestly didn't expect her to succeed.

And he sure as hell didn't expect her to slap him.

His head turned to his right due to the force she used and his cheek stung as she freed herself from him. His eyes narrowed and his sharingan activated on reflex.

When he turned his face to look at her, she stood straight, shoulders squared, as she glared at him, fists clenched at her sides.

"You have no fuckin' right to call me weak." She hissed the words, and he had the feeling that he should keep his mouth shut. So he did. "You have no fuckin' right to insinuate I'm weak." Her voice rose and he could see her losing her composure.

"Because I am not weak anymore." She was borderline screaming now. "Not weak, not useless, not pathetic and not a crybaby." Her chest heaved with every word she spoke—with every breath she took.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she kept going. "I trained hard to get where I am today. Tears, blood, sweat and the will to keep going." The fire in her eyes never died down. "I was trained by the best, and I'm part of the best, so don't even dare call me weak, because that's something I haven't been for a long time." She breathed hard, taking deep breaths to try to keep some level of composure.

"But above all, you don't have the right to judge or categorize me, you're just a bastard who betrayed his village." He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth, he didn't like where her hysterical rant was going.

"You're just a fucking traitor who—" And he'd had enough. Traitor? What about the fuckers that had his clan massacred? She had no idea.

He saw red—in the metaphorical sense—and faster than she could blink or say anything else, he was in front of her, one hand gripping her upper arm while the other gripped her hair—none of which he did gently—while forcefully tilting her head backwards.

The urge to break her overcame him—and then he kissed her.

Her eyes widened and she gasped, breaking the kiss. "What the—hmf." He didn't let her finish and slanted his lips against her again. She struggled against him, but he tightened his hold on her—he could feel the blood flowing on her arm under his hand and her hair straining against her scalp—causing her to whimper.

A twisted, sadistic part of him fed off of her sudden fear—her green eyes were wide and vulnerable, and the terrified look in them fed the darkness in him. She whimpered again, trying to push him away, but he only pulled her closer to him and, with a rough tug on her hair, angled her head so he could deepen the kiss, forcefully parting her lips and sliding his tongue in her mouth.

"…stop…" he ignored the broken whimper coming from her between one kiss and the next, the darkness starting to consume him. More, more, more, break her more. It screamed at him in hysteria, and he let it consume him, because he was breaking her, and the more he broke her the more the darkness consumed him and clouded his mind in a twisted kind of high.

"…Sasuke please…" he ignored her again, the fear—the desperation—in her voice only fueling the monsters in him further—and he didn't stop it, couldn't stop it—he could never stop the darkness when it took over him.

"…stop…" he didn't, only deepened the kiss even more, shutting her up. "…please…" her voice kept getting more desperate, and the monster laughed maniacally.

"…Sasuke, please…" he ignored her again, kissing her forcefully—breaking her. A second later the monster in him paused in outrage when, in a hasty jerk of her head, she wrenched her lips away from his.

"Sasuke, stop." She almost screamed the words as she crashed herself forward into him, roughly wrapping her arms around him, her face pressed against his neck.

Hid hold on her arm and hair tightened even more and he tried to pull her back, but she just tightened her hold on him—hands gripping the t-shirt he wore—and pressed her body as close as she could.

"This isn't you, so please stop." She held him tight against her, her quiet words making something in him snap. The darkness—the monster—clawed and roared as chains seemed to snap and clink to trap it.

"It is me." His voice had a dark edge to it—she trembled and shook her head against his neck. The blood flow in her arm, he could barely feel it anymore.

"No." she took a deep breath, her whole frame quivering—the monster could almost taste her fear—as her hold on him tightened. "It's not you." She shook her head against his neck again. "You're not like this… you're not." Her voice broke at the end—it surprised him she wasn't crying.

"But it is." He let out a dark chuckle. "Face it Sakura, I am a monster." The monster in him trampled over the chairs with a maniacal grin.

The girl against him suddenly wrenched herself a step back—still trembling, still terrified—looking up at him with the greenest eyes he'd ever seen—determined, terrified, headstrong—as her hands flew up to his face.

The thought that she was probably going to land a chakra infused punch on him amused him—the masochist part of the monster—the thought of maybe a slap amused the monster just as much—but neither happened.

His hold on her faltered and he was taken aback when instead of any sort of brutal blow, she cupped his face in a tender gesture—her still terrified eyes looking straight into his blood red ones with fierce determination and affection.

"You're not a monster." Her voice was strong and unfaltering, filled with conviction and determination—his heart seemed to physically tighten as he realized she truly believed those words. Somewhere deep inside, a part of him wanted to believe them too—a part of him screamed and cried at him to believe, to make her make him believe those words.

"You're not a monster." She repeated, her voice never losing the confidence or determination, and her fingers pressed the tiniest bit harder against the skin of his face. "You're not a monster." He could feel her body trembling, could see the fear in her eyes—but still, she didn't try to run, didn't try to get away and hide. He found himself respecting her for facing him even though she was terrified—and deep down felt pride for her courage.

"You're not a monster Sasuke." She traced his cheekbones and jaw line with her fingers—feather light touches—before sliding the nimble digits over the sides of his neck and back, bringing herself closer to him again while wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. "You're not a monster." This time she whispered the words—not meaning them any less—and leaned her forehead against his neck.

The monster inside of him roared in pain, chains and blades clinking as they trapped and subdued it, the chains holding it down, and the blades piercing every other part of it. The twisted high the darkness gave him started fading, his mind clearing.

He felt numb—couldn't feel anything else besides the numbness.

His grip on her arm and hair faltered and he let his arms fall to his sides uselessly—it had never happened before, the darkness, the monster, being stopped. He usually couldn't stop—the darkness was all consuming—until the monster had broken its target to the stage of no possible repair—to death, most of the time.

But it had stopped—the darkness, the monster. Because of her. The trembling, terrified girl hugging him. The girl he was surprised was so brave—so courageous and selfless.

He knew she knew. He knew she knew that if it came to a real fight, she'd lose. If it was just raw strength, she would overpower him. When it came to medical skills—be it to heal or to cause the damage—he knew she'd top him on that too. But he was faster, knew more elemental jutsus. He had the sharingan.

"I am a monster." Something in his gut twisted, the numbness slowly fading and giving way to something between self-disgust at what he'd become and pain.

"You're not a monster." Her words were but as whisper, and then she pulled back, her hands back to cupping his face with a tenderness he didn't deserve. When her eyes met his, he saw relief flash in them and the fear subside substantially—the determination and headstrong confidence still there. He could still read her so well, like an open book.

"You're not a monster, you hear me?" a rhetorical question that sounded a lot like someone scolding a child. "Monsters are heartless and cruel beings." She shook her head from side to side, her fingers holding his face tighter—only then did he realize that his sharingan was no longer active and that his eyes were back to their normal onyx.

"I am those—" she didn't let him finish, a fire rising in her eyes—a passionate, determined, confident and somewhat angry fire.

"Listen to me, ok? Listen to me." She pulled him down with her hands, rising on her toes as well in order for them to be at eye level. Their faces were oh-so-close.

"You're not a monster." He glanced to his left and caught the dark purple hand-shaped bruise on her upper arm—she held his face tighter between her hands, a gesture that demanded his attention. It worker as he looked back to her burning green eyes.

"You may be a jerk, an asshole, a traitor, emotionless, arrogant, poker-faced, stick-shoved-up-his-ass bastard, hell, even an idiot dumbass sometimes." She paused and took a few slow breaths. "You may even be a cold, ruthless, self-righteous, one-syllable-answers, frustrating, blunt and extremely skilled shinobi." The fire in her eyes softened—the anger replaced by affection. "But you're not a monster." She spoke softly now—he'd never thought she could be so blunt and use so many insults together. What surprised him even more was, for one, that he didn't feel insulted, and for two, that she didn't insult him to insult him.

"You're not heartless and you're not cruel." She paused, keeping her left hand over his cheek while she ran the fingers of her right over his jaw line. "You're emotionless and cunning." She smiled—a genuine smile, a smile that reached her eyes and came from her very soul—and pushed his still slightly damp bangs out of his eyes. "There's a hugeass difference, you know." And then she hugged him—a tender and affectionate embrace that made something inside of him quiver.

_(He couldn't remember anyone embracing him like that other than his mother.)_

The monster roared, clawed, begged, cried, the darkness trying to consume him—his long forgotten heart and his already corrupted soul—but her words, the way she spoke them and the way she still cared so much, slowly encompassed him, slithering through the cracks and, like the most deadly weapon, started smothering out the darkness and ripping the monster apart.

Slowly, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her small frame and lowered his head to her shoulder, feeling oddly at peace as the smell of rain and magnolias danced around him.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath—"You're not heartless…"—her scent filling his lungs as he did—"…and you're not cruel."—before he let it out against her neck. She responded by leaning her head against his—"You're emotionless..."—while her arms tightened around his neck, one hand running over his damp hair—"…and cunning."—as the other moved in random patterns over his shoulder.

He held her tighter, his hands fisting in her dark blue top—"There's…"—as he pressed his face tighter against her neck. He was clinging to her, clinging to her every word—"…a hugeass difference, you know."—but he didn't care, couldn't bring himself to care. "You're not a monster Sasuke." And he desperately wanted to believe her—so he forced himself to.

The affection she gave him—felt for him—smothered the darkness, tore the monster apart. "I… I'm… I'm not a monster." He tried the thought in his mind, eyes still tightly closed as he kept clinging to her, rain and magnolias all around him.

**No**, the monster screeched, **break her**, he wouldn't. "I'm not a monster." And this time he believed it a little more.

Her fingers slithering through his hair, her other hand running patterns across his shoulder, and the confidence she had on her words gave him hope—he wasn't a monster, he didn't want to be one, he never had. The monster moaned in pain and the vile darkness seemed to disappear just as the monster roared its outrage one last time, trying to claw its way out of the chains that imprisoned it—and then all that was left was an odd placid void. The monster was gone and so was the darkness—for the most part at least, because he was already corrupted, and those tainted would always carry darkness in them.

He never deluded himself into thinking that she could replace the darkness by light—those who thought such feat could be accomplished were delusional idiots—but he never imagined she could banish the monster either. The void that remained—placid, serene—made him feel strangely relived and contempt.

And he stood clinging to her for he had no idea how long—she let him. It felt like an eternity and just a few seconds at the same time.

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ﾎﾟｯ(*ﾟ.ﾟ)(ﾟ.ﾟ*)ﾎﾟｯ

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The whole mission had been seriously fucked up.

First he landed himself in a shithole of a village where people didn't talk and he couldn't even do reckon because the weather was a bitch—the rain poured too hard nonstop and the wind was always present.

Then, at the lack of possibility of reckon and infiltration—again, because people didn't talk and the weather was a bitch—he'd seen himself forced to work with someone of his past—someone that, as he'd remembered, had been a nuisance.

Begrudgingly, he admitted she had changed and improved—she wasn't a nuisance anymore, though she still annoyed him for some reason. So they'd infiltrated the mass-orgy brothel master_&_pet hellhole successfully and completed the mission.

All things done and over with, he'd been ready to never see her again, but after he'd forgotten his scroll in her room, he'd never thought she'd end up healing a part of him—he'd never thought he'd be clinging to her like a scared child clinging to their mother. He'd never thought she'd be embracing him with so much tenderness and affection either—after all, he had left her knocked out on a bench in the middle of the night, and then tried to kill her.

He'd never thought a lot of things—never thought she would be so headstrong, never thought she'd be a skilled kunoichi, never thought she would keep her head held high and hide her tears. He'd never thought she would be terrified of him but not run away, hide and cry.

But most of all, he'd never thought that his long forgotten heart and corrupted soul would be rid of the all-consuming darkness and of the maniacal sadistic monster inside of him—especially not that she'd be the one to heal that part of him with just her headstrong and affectionate personality.

Among millions of other things he'd never thought of, one he'd never even considered was that he'd feel drawn to her—and he never thought he'd feel so gut-wretchedly nauseous and self-loathingly guilty when, as he opened his eyes, he saw the dark purple imprint of his hand on her right upper arm.

Slowly, he released the grip of his left hand on the fabric that covered her back—his fingers slightly trembled, and it scared him because he was always in control of himself—and moved his hand to her shoulder, fingers oh-so-slowly sliding lower over her arm until his fingers touched the bruise—she winced the tiniest bit, and he let his fingers linger over the skin, not quite touching it, before clenching his hand.

He closed his eyes tightly and buried his face on her shoulder again, letting his closed fist press against his thigh—he'd hurt her.

"Gomen." He really wanted to get away, she made him do and feel things that bothered him more than a little—what he hated was that it mostly didn't bother him in a bad way.

She sighed against his neck and pulled back slightly, her arms disentangling from around him. He refused to face her, keeping his head on her shoulder and his right arm around her—his hand still fisted in her top—clinging.

"It's ok." But it wasn't, not when the guilt was starting to gnaw at his insides—he wasn't used to feeling guilty, didn't like it either.

She should have pushed him away—he wanted her to push him away—but she didn't. She reached down and took his tightly clenched fist between her hands, softly running her fingers over his tense knuckles and prying his fingers apart until his open palm lay slack between her elegant fingers—slightly calloused but still soft.

"Mite." Her soft spoken request had him looking at their hands—at this point, he couldn't really deny her, the guilt wouldn't allow it. He watched as she raised their hands and, with her left, took his hand and laid it over the bruise, her hand over his, fingers wrapped over his palm. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes—the guilt made him nauseous and he was starting to doubt her certainty that he wasn't a monster.

She seemed to read his mind.

"You're not a monster Sasuke-kun, look." She spoke softly—tenderly—and the use of the suffix only made him choke on his own breath—but he opened his eyes to face the bruise anyway.

There was a moment of rain-disturbed silence, and then he felt something cool on his hand—inside his hand, as if chakra was preparing to heal, but it didn't. He stared at their joined hands in surprise as something he couldn't understand happened and his hand started glowing a pale green—he watched, enthralled, as the nasty looking hand shaped bruise started fading, in its place remaining healthy looking fair skin.

He didn't know what to say—he had never been one for words, but at the moment, he simply didn't know what to say. When a coherent thought did cross his mind, she didn't let him finish. "You—"

"Did not heal myself." He pulled back—letting his hand stay where she was holding it—and looked into her liquid green eyes—doubtful of what she'd just said. He wasn't a med-nin, he couldn't heal, so what else had happened other than her healing herself?

She smiled, her eyes shining with an emotion he couldn't identify. "I just induced your chakra into healing the bruise." She raised their joined hands and intertwined their fingers together, pulling the limbs until they were between them both. "You're the one who healed me." What she'd just said was confusing.

"It's true that not everyone can become a medic because you need to have extremely good chakra control, and even then, some just aren't interested in learning—sure as hell isn't the easiest thing to learn." She chuckled good heartedly at the last part and then faced him. "Considering all the skills you have—well, considering the ones I know about, it's not hard to figure out you have pretty good chakra control, so it wouldn't be too hard for you to be able to at least perform some basic healing jutsu." he got it so far, but he still couldn't heal—didn't know how.

"Still—" she cut him off again, waving her free hand dismissively.

"I know you don't know how to heal, but someone with good medic skills, can induce someone else's chakra into healing—well, as long as the other person isn't fighting it or has some sort of disturbance in their chakra system." She waved her hand again. "The technicalities are boring." Had he been someone else, he'd have let out a surprised 'oh', but he wasn't, and even if he was feeling a lot of things he'd rather not be feeling, he was him, and he didn't show it—poker-faced she'd called him earlier. His only reaction was blink.

She grinned this time—white teeth straight. "See, told ya you weren't a monster, monster can only do bad things 'cause they live in chaos." She put her free hand at the back of his neck and pulled him down until their foreheads were leaning against one another, her grin turning into a soft smile. "If you were a monster, you wouldn't have healed me." The relief he'd seen earlier flashed through her eyes again. "You wouldn't have stopped." She let out a quivering breath, her eyes turning glassy.

"But you did." And at that moment, he realized she'd been beyond terrified of what he could have done to her—but she'd believed. Believed he wasn't a monster.

"I'm not a monster." When she smiled, he believed the words almost completely.

"No, you're not." She was an idiot—she always saw good in people and she had way too much faith in his humanity—but because she was an idiot and believed too much in him, he thought that maybe his world wasn't such a dark place after all—if someone like her could be in it willingly, it couldn't be all that bad.

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**End of Part III**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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Hope you liked Part III!!

I'd really appreciate a few reviews, I like knowing what everyone thinks about what I write!

So, this week, I'd like to reach 20 reviews, and if I get more than that, I'll be really really happy and post a new chapter on Wednesday!

Besides that, what do you think's gonna happen next?!

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

April 17th 2010


	4. The Happening

Hi hi everyone!!

Gomen for updating late, but Fridays' are kinda epic for me since I have classes and then I have to take the train to come spend the weekend home – and then after dinner, here I was in front of the screen thinking to myself I had an update to post when stuff happened [the kind where I ended up laughing my ass off] and…

Anyway, here's the update, even if hours late!!

As a sidenote, it didn't come out on Wednesday because, well, I only got my yummy 20 reviews, just one more and I'd have posted earlier, but…

And now, shoutout to my awesome reviewers, _**blubbish**_, _**the tomato**_, _**Chantrea Moonbeam**_, _**kirs1016**_, _**LittleGreenWolf**_, _**Twisted Musalih**_, _**Japanese-Fanatic **_ and _**C.A.M.E.O.1 and only**_ !!

Thanks for the awesome reviews guys!! They made me really happy!! \(^o^)/

As a sidenote and somehow answering the reviews I got, I try really hard to put my heart into my writing and portraying emotions, it's particularly challenging to write it in a guy's pov, especially Sasuke's, so I try really hard, it makes me grin like an idiot when you guys tell me how the way I write makes you able to live the scene for yourselves!!

Also, the 'you're not a moster scene' may have seemed a little dragging, but… take it as an interlude, if I'd written so it didn't last so long it probably would've ended up seeming rushed and halfassed, and that's something I don't actually like—I don't like it when I read something that seems written over your knees and in a rush, so I do my best to not write that way.

Anyway, enough with the huugeass rant… just enjoy this chapter and leave a review at the end, will ya?!

As a second sidenote, this chapter is dedicated to Ri-chan, obviously, but also to my other girl best friend, Juh-chan, because she was feeling really down a little while ago, so, this is for you love!!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part IV**

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Damn, she was making him think different, she was making him think with… with emotions and… and not just in analysis. That's why she was so annoying. _Tsk._

He had no idea how it happened and who did it first—not that he was complaining, 'cause he wasn't—but he suddenly found himself loosing himself in her.

Her warm lips were soft and moist against his, the shy slide of her tongue against his made an ecstatic shiver run down his spine—made him want more. She tasted like peppermint and lemon—most likely from her toothpaste—and her skin was warm and oh-_so_-soft—like velvet—though not completely unblemished—as his right hand ran over the skin of her lower back, under her top, he traced over the subtle scars he felt.

Her hair was like silk, the fingers of his left hand entangled in her pink locks at the back of her neck—a gentle grip this time—and the quiet, breathy sounds coming from her as she tangled her hands in his now-dry hair excited and made him press her closer to him—she moaned his name in a breathy whisper against his lips, her green eyes shut much like his own.

It was so different from earlier that night when they were in the master_&_pet all-out-orgy brothel hellhole and had to act as if they were_ together_.

He was man enough to admit that when they'd kissed and touched, his body had reacted as expected from a healthy, hormonal—albeit in control of himself—19 year old guy—which meant he'd _kinda_ enjoyed it. But, as far as it went, that was it, enjoyable but fake.

Right then, though, it was so completely different. The kisses, the touches, the breathy moans and sighs—it was all real and infinitely, insanely better. It wasn't just enjoyable, it was amazing—blissful even.

"…Sasuke…" his name came out of her parted lips as a mixture between a pleasured moan and a dreamy sigh. He opened his eyes—half-opened really—and marveled at the sight of the pink blush that spread over her cheeks and over her nose, her slightly parted tantalizing reddish-pink lips and her half-closed lids that hid translucent emerald green eyes fogged up in passion.

Trailing kisses on her cheeks and over her jaw line, he felt her tilt her head to the opposite side, giving him more access to the smooth expanse of skin of her neck. She was all velvet soft skin and tantalizing curves—he was sure she didn't have curves the last time he'd seen her.

He bit the lobe of her ear gently—earning him another breathy moan—and then trailed kisses over her neck as he ran his left hand down her back, slipping said limb under her dark blue top and pressing her even closer to him—if that was even possible, considering that not even a lone atom would be able to get between them.

His mind blurred, consumed by kisses and touches—and she had _really_ talented hands. Not just her hands though—just like he did to her, she trailed kissed over every last bit of skin she could reach—she giggled when he nipped the junction between her neck and jaw, just below her ear, and he groaned—unwillingly, _of course_—as she playfully bit the junction of his neck and shoulder on his left side, where the cursed seal used to be.

He couldn't remember how it happened, but somehow he lost his shirt—not that he minded, which he didn't, seeing as her hands running over his skin, fingers tracing over scars, felt exhilarating—what he could remember was that they both almost crashed in the bed in a very ungraceful manner—and it wouldn't have been pleasant either, at least not for her, considering all the scrolls, books and whatnots that were there.

He held himself with one hand, the other around her waist—preventing her from landing over the documents—as she held on to him with one arm around his neck and the other supporting her weight on the mattress—probably a reflex gesture to break a fall.

They stared at each other for a few seconds—and then she giggled. And it must've been contagious because he couldn't contain a few amused chuckles, a smirk tugging at his lips when she looked back at him, her face flushed from her girly outburst.

Leaning forward, she kissed him—slow, close-mouthed and sweet. When she pulled back, he did smirk when more giggles burst from her oh-so-kissable lips—he liked hearing her giggle, it meant she was happy—he let go of her waist and with a swift, fluid movement of his arm shoved the documents they'd recovered crashing to the floor, pressing her against the mattress once it was cleared and lowering himself over her to trail kisses down her neck and collarbone—wet, open mouthed kisses accompanied by licks, nips, sucks and nibbles on her delightful creamy skin.

She giggled when he nipped the junction of her neck and jaw, sighed when he kissed the junction between her shoulder and neck, bit her lip when he sucked over her jugular and moaned when he licked the small hollow between collarbones. Somehow, he liked it—liked how she reacted to him, to what he did.

Maybe he was deluding himself, but he liked to think that it was only him that she reacted like this to.

She squirmed underneath him as he ran his fingers over her ribs, her hands coming up to try to stop him—he smirked and ignored her hands trying to stop him from finding her ticklish spots.

"…s-stop… it…" she stuttered, to his amusement, and kept squirming, glaring a very non-intimidating glare up at him. "S-seriously… s-stop it…" she made an uneasy-sounding grumble and pouted when she saw his smirk.

"No." she huffed in frustration and kept squirming—he leaned down and gave her a slow kiss that made her close her eyes for a few seconds as she enjoyed it. That is, until, after memorizing all the spots that made her squirm, he broke the kiss and started tickling her, a devilish smirk on his lips.

She squirmed and let out giggles that mixed with uneasy-sounding grumbles, all the while trying to pry his hands off and borderline _demanding_ him to stop—of course, the way she stuttered her demands and threats did nothing but contribute to his devilish amusement.

The moment when she'd had enough and used chakra-induced strength to flip them over, he saw her grin victoriously—so he let her feel powerful for just a little while. _**He**_ was the alpha, no matter what. But he let her have her ego boost, _for now_, her hands holding his wrists against the bed while she straddled his waist, a grin etched on her face.

"You should've stopped." He raised a brow and smirked—she narrowed her eyes and pouted. "You're evil Sasuke-kun." He refrained from rolling his eyes at her whiny words.

"Cunning." she glared and pouted again.

"Same thing." She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking like a kid who didn't get the candy she wanted.

"No, it's not." She huffed again and looked away pouting—the smirk never left his lips. "Evil implies malicious intent." He put his hands on her hips and squeezed the soft flesh gently. "Cunning implies being strategic." She kept pouting, knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it—having her on top wasn't so bad after all.

She would give in eventually—no matter how much she'd changed, he knew she would give in eventually, she just needed a little incentive.

He lowered his eyes from her turned face and scanned her body. She had nice curves—full and luscious breast he estimated to be just a handful—not too big and not too small—a nice, slim—and lithe, considering her line of work—waist, a toned stomach and rounded, curvy hips. He let his hands trail from her hips to her pleasant-to-the-eye behind and gave a firm squeeze.

He glanced up when she squeaked and smirked when she blushed a deep red—another ego boost. She had a nice ass too—long, sexy legs to finish off. Legs that, he might add, only added to his excitement—both mental and physical—as they squeezed at his waist.

"Sakura." he said her name in a low tone while slowly lifting his torso from the bed, one hand leaving her very—very, _very_—nice ass so he could support his weight.

She slowly looked at him, swallowing and shivering as he ran his other hand up her back—tracings her spine—until he reached the back of her neck—fingers tangling in her pink hair and gently tugging on it.

"Koi." She swallowed again—licking her lips, even if unconsciously, in a way that had his blood heating to a point it felt like lava running through his veins—and nodded, as if hypnotized—which he knew she wasn't. And come she did, uncrossing her arms from around her torso to rest her hands on his shoulder while leaning towards him, stopping just a breath away from his lips while breathily stuttering his name.

He kissed her until she couldn't think anymore, rolling her back under him—he almost groaned when she moaned and quivered as he ran his hands over her sides to take her top off—he did groan, head buried in her neck as he threw the dark blue piece of clothing somewhere on the floor, when 2 creamy and perky globes of pale, luscious flesh with rosy peaks came into his sight.

Dear Lord, what was she doing to him? She'd taken the monster away, and now she would probably be taking his sanity.

He sat up, straddling her, and took all the revealed flesh in—she was so fucking dazzling. Her skin glowed pink from the seemingly permanent flush—darker on her cheeks and nose—and her chest heaved up and down with each breath she took. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed, eyes half-closed and hair spread around her head in a messy—sexy—disarray—somehow they ended up in a diagonal on the bed.

Kami-sama, now he knew why he'd left her behind—she affected him too much. He couldn't seem to think properly around her, especially not when she was only wearing skimpy shorts and underwear underneath him.

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ﾎﾟｯ(*ﾟ.ﾟ)(ﾟ.ﾟ*)ﾎﾟｯ

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The rain kept pouring outside—though there could have been bombs going off and he wouldn't have cared, not when he had her underneath him, practically naked, just as aroused as he was with her hands sliding underneath his pants to grope his ass—breathlessly moaning his name over and over again as he kissed, nipped, licked, sucked, nibbled and fondled every single bit of exposed flesh no less.

She arched her back every time he nipped and then sucked the rosy peaks of her breasts into his mouth, her fingers digging into his back as she breathlessly moaned his name and threw her head back—his ego fed off of each of her pleasure-induced reactions.

He couldn't remember when or how he'd taken her black shorts off—leaving her in baby blue, with a white chibi bunnies print, panties—only that she'd blushed and squeaked when he'd dipped his tongue into her navel. He couldn't keep count of how many kisses, touches, and everything in between, they shared—he gave her and she gave him—but he remembered her first climax.

Hands groped, squeezed, caressed and tugged. Lips kissed and sucked, tongues licked and teeth nipped and nibbled, delivering a more forceful bite once in a while. Thin droplets of sweat started forming on their skin, their bodies gliding against one another and creating blissful friction. Breathy moans and low groans.

His pants felt tight—almost painfully—but the feel on her core—still covered by baby blue material—against him as their hips grinded to an unknown rhythm overlapped the discomfort—an overly erotic imitation of sex that had his blood rushing through his veins like molten lava straight from the center of the earth.

Her short nails scratched his back, leaving angry red trails as they moved, her head moving from side to side when he wasn't feasting on her lips—it was when he bit on the junction of her shoulder and neck with a little too much force—to the point he felt blood—that she climaxed.

He was mesmerized as he watched her quiver underneath him, back arched off of the bed as her breasts pressed into his chest, head thrown back, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she whimpered his name so quietly and breathlessly he almost didn't hear it, her nails digging into his shoulder and scalp—for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

Swallowing, he fisted his hand in her hair as she came down from her high and kissed her languidly, their tongues moving against one another in slow and erotic slides.

He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted her, _needed_ her, _**craved**_ her. He wanted to have her so completely that her only coherent thought would be his name—wanted to possess her, mark her, brand her and claim her as his.

She seemed to know exactly what he wanted—or maybe it was what she wanted—he didn't care either way as her hands slid over his chest and stomach until she reached his pants. The first button made adrenalin rush through his system as he thought of what they would be doing next.

When her fingers felt the second button, she fumbled a little before breaking their kiss and glaring down at where her hands were, her fingers fumbling with the button.

"Fuckin'shi—"she cut herself off and tugged at the button—it was starting to get frustrating, so he reached down to help her out, only to have his hand swatted away.

"Let me do it." She looked up at him after swatting his hand away again and glared. Without a word, she went back to battling with the button from hell.

"Mothafucking son of a—" she cut herself off again, her patience clearly vanishing as she tugged the button and nothing happened, and then glared at him. "Have you ever heard of pants with zippers?" he glared back at her, but before he could say anything, he found himself on his back again, the pink haired spitfire straddling his thighs—almost naked—leaning forward slightly, her hands at the buttons of his pants while she glared down at them with a very much sadistic grin—if he hadn't known better and been someone else, he would've been scared and thought he was about to have some of his bones broken.

Her grin widened and she giggled evilly as she unbuttoned one button after another in sadistic delight—like a mean kid who'd just beaten his rival for the last piece of candy.

He put an arm behind his head, fisting his hand on the sheets underneath and out of sight—there was just no way he was letting her know how affected he was by where she was sitting, with the clothes she was wearing—or lack thereof—and by where her hands were—years of training allowed him mastery of the poker face.

She giggled maniacally, fidgeting with the evil buttons—he hissed when her hand brushed over his hard-on. She paused in her delusional victory and looked up at him, head tilted to the side.

"Hmm…" she squirmed and—oh, dear lord—it only served to make the fabric of his pants rub against his oversensitive arousal. "I didn't hurt you did I?" she fidgeted with her fingers and looked genuinely worried—he would've thought it amusing if he didn't have a hard-on and a very much naked—well, almost—beautiful and willing girl straddling him—especially after said girl wrestled with the buttons of his pants.

"…baka…" she squirmed again and he took a deep breath. Releasing it, he reached his free hand to her face and glided his fingers over her skin until they were at the back of her neck, tugging her down towards him afterwards. She came willingly, crawling over him to reach eye level—though her eyes shifted between his onyx ones and his lips.

He smirked at the obvious effect he had on her and tugged her head down so he could whisper in her ear—"Zippers aren't as enduring."—trapping her earlobe between his teeth afterwards, nibbling on it gently. She moaned a breathy 'oh' and quivered when he released the back of her neck to squeeze one of her breasts.

"Well…" she ran one of her hands down his chest and stopped to trace the outlines of his abs. "The mean buttons from hell won't be so—" she paused and licked his jaw, licking her lips afterwards before continuing, lips hovering over the corner of his mouth. "—enduring—" she paused again and bit her bottom lip, looking at his eyes with half-lidded ones. "—if they don't let me have what I want."

She was tempting him, the crafty little hellcat. To his annoyance and frustration at himself—it was working.

He was wearing a perfectly good pair of pants—a shame if he let her destroy them because the evil buttons got on her nerves—so they quickly came off when he pinned her under him once more.

Oh Kami—or Buddha or whatever—he loved her hands on him, the way she glided them over every sensitive area and pressed just at the right spots—at least when it came to knowing human anatomy, she was a damn fine med-nin.

He groaned and bit down on her neck—in the same spot where he'd drawn blood—when he felt her hands gliding over his sides, pausing at his hips, only to have her nimble fingers fidget with the tight-fitting boxers—whatever deity that was out there had him in heaven and hell at the same time. _Fuck_.

She licked his ear—_oh fuck, that felt good_—and then blew into it—_keep it cool, don't shiver_—giggling quietly as she let her fingers travel further over his hips and under his boxers.

"You look really yummy with just these on." He choked on a groan and almost lost the balance he had on his elbow. "Though right now they'd look better on the floor." And—_oh fuck_—she slipped her hands further down, inside his boxers, and then—_oh sweet torture_—moved her dainty fingers to the back and over his ass, first just pressing on the skin and then fondling. Well, if she liked his ass, she might as well enjoy it, he wasn't about to complain about her skilled medic hands groping him.

He slipped a hand behind her, running it down from her neck to the small of her back—two could play her game. Slipping his hand further down, he squeezed that nice little ass of hers—to which she squeaked, her hands squeezing his behind on reflex—and smirked against her neck, sensuously licking the bite mark—that'd leave a scar—just before lifting her lower half off of the bed and pressing her hips against his.

She gasped and moaned his name in that breathy way of hers that turned him on even more.

"Off." He smirked at the order and kissed her, slow and deep, moving his hips against hers in a languid rhythm—another overly erotic imitation of sex, only this time their bodies were covered in sweat, one of her hands was still fondling his ass, the other gripping his hair while he held himself on his left forearm, his left hand tangled in her hair while his right groped her ass, holding her core against his as he rocked their hips to the slow, languid and erotic rhythm of their tongues sliding against one another.

She whimpered quietly and pouted when he let her fall back on the bed and hovered above her. Her breathing was labored—his wasn't any better—as he cupped her cheek, tilting her head back just slightly, before lowering his face to hers and licking the tempting drop of sweat that had been running down her forehead to her jaw—her pink hair clung to her sweaty skin, his was in the same predicament. But hell, it was worth it.

"You're getting nak—"he stopped and swallowed as her hand slipped inside his boxers again, this time at the front, her other hand gripping his hair tight as she panted next to his ear, her breath hot and moist. He opened his mouth to speak again, but groaned instead, fisting his hands on the sheets as she ran her fingers over his shaft before closing her fist around it, the pressure she used oh-so-blissful.

He swallowed again, refraining from burying his face in her neck and licking the tantalizing drop of sweat that was running down her jugular towards her shoulder.

"You're getting naked first." He almost couldn't get the last word out as ecstasy coursed through his veins—through his damn bloody cells—as she started moving her fist up and down on his oversensitive skin in a languid rhythm, squeezing harder from time to time.

"Unfair." She gripped his male pride harder and he hissed, succumbing to temptation and licking the droplet of sweat running over her jugular, making a path with his tongue until he reached her jaw. "The girl always gets naked first." She bit his earlobe and then licked the patch of skin just behind his ear—he groaned—where a droplet of sweat had been, sucking on it afterwards—her hands never stopped the movements down below.

"Don't care." He almost choked, the pleasure making his mouth go dry. A drop of sweat ran down from his scalp to his forehead, sliding over the side of his face, it stayed suspended on his jaw for a second before dropping down on her shoulder. He reached up—the pillows now just behind her head—and slipped his hand underneath the pillow—if she was smart, she'd keep—oh, there it was, a kunai under the pillow to his left.

"But I do." She leaned her sweaty cheek against his equally sweaty one and pressed herself upwards, her breasts pressing against his chest, the hard little peaks pressing to his chest in the most delightful way—but he wouldn't cave, his pride wouldn't allow it. "I don't wanna get naked first." She whined, but he wouldn't cave, not even when she moved her hand over his dick in a way that had him almost moaning in pleasure. She _was_ getting naked first.

"Boo-fucking-hoo." She gripped his hair tighter, her nails digging against his scalp, and moved her other hand down, her wrist sliding against his hard-on as he felt her fingers sliding over his balls before she started fondling them, her wrist rubbing against his shaft—fuck, she knew what she was doing.

"You first Sasuke-kun." She purred oh-so-sexily, biting his neck playfully afterwards.

"Keep dreaming." And before she could torment him with more blissful torture, he dragged his hand down, kunai held tight with ease and skill until he reached her hips. He licked a few droplets of sweat from her cheek and smirked against her flushed skin. "Ladies first." She whined—in order to keep some of his sanity—and before she could do something to his male pride that would set him off—he ran the tip of the blade he had in hand over her stomach, pausing at her navel, and then going down to her hip. She shivered under him, quiet moans escaping her parted lips as she leaned her head back.

While he ran the blade down her hip and over her thigh, he trailed open mouthed kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking her collarbones—one before the other—and then dipping his tongue on the tempting hollow in between—sucking on it to tease her. Her breathless moans rewarded him and he kept worshipping her skin, going lower and lower, but never touching the little rosy pink peaks that stood stiff, demanding attention.

When he slid the kunai under the side of her underwear—intent on cutting the restricting girly garment—he felt her nails digging on his scalp with a certain brutality—at least she was considerate enough to not subject his dick to the same brutal treatment—and bit down on his shoulder just as hard as he had bitten her neck—to the point of drawing blood and leaving a scar. He hissed as the pain only heightened the pleasure.

"Don't even th—" she cut herself off with a quiet moan, arching her back as he sucked one of her rosy nipples into his mouth. She took a few deep breaths before she spoke again, stuttering the whole time. "D-don't e-even think a-about it." He let go of her nipple and licked the tantalizing valley between her creamy mounds.

"Humor me." He sucked the underside of her right breast that had been being ignored. She quivered and licked her lips, her left hand going back to moving up and down his hard length.

"They're…" she paused, letting out a quivering breath, and leaned her head against his. "They're one of my favorites, limited edition." She tugged at his hair and forced him to tilt his face upward to face her, tugging a little more until their lips were barely touching—at least he'd managed to finish the hickey. "I went through hell to get those so you're not shredding them to pieces." For emphasis she squeezed his dick to a point he couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure. "Got it?" her eyes promised pain if he just messed up a string of her baby blue bunny printed panties.

Well, at least she gave him some leverage without even knowing it.

"Then take 'em off before I cut 'em off." He smirked against her lips and watched in amusement as she fought the puppy eyes and the pout.

"You're mean." He bit her lower lip when she pouted, giving him the puppy eyes after all.

"Cunning." She huffed, parting her lips slightly, and he took the chance to slip his tongue in her mouth for another languid and erotic kiss. "Off." She grumbled as he kissed her again with the same passion, giving him the puppy eyes—it almost worked, but nothing intimidated him. To prove his point, he broke the kiss and let his slightly parted lips rest barely grazing hers as their breaths mingled, lifting the kunai just enough to lift the fabric away from her body but not cut.

"Fine." She breathed, sliding her hands over his sweaty skin until she had her palms pressed against his stomach. She hummed and licked her lips, eyes where her hands were—he smirked smugly at her obvious appreciation—and then pushed him back. He complied, kneeling back, and watched as, with a sultry look, she ran her hands over her curves—from her collarbones, over her breasts, down her ribs and stomach until she hooked her thumbs on each side of her panties, tugging the smallest bit down.

He licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes fixated on her hands. When one of her hands released the fabric and slowly moved up to her navel, he glanced up at her face—she was sporting a look he could only describe as hellcat-ish, it made the molten lava that seemed to have replace his blood flow even faster through his body.

She grinned, like the hellcat she was, and then let out a breathless moan, her eyes on him—he tried, really tried to not look away from her face, but when he felt the mattress shift and one of her legs slide against his, he couldn't contain himself and let his eyes travel further, past the handful of her breasts and the toned expanse of her stomach—he choked on a half-groan half-moan—his dick twitched, itching to be freed from its confines.

Her right thumb was hooked on the strip of baby blue fabric at her side, pulling it down over her hip bone while her other hand—he licked his suddenly dry lips—her other hand was under the bunny printed fabric—

Another breathless moan came from her—he gripped the handle of the kunai he had in his hand tightly—as her fingers moved under the damp—obviously from her arousal—patch of fabric. He watched as she moved her hips back and forth slowly, her fingers slipping in and out of her—_in and out._

She moaned again and he glanced at her face when his name came out in a quivering whisper—her expression could only be described as one of ecstasy.

The kunai was thrown to the floor, landing with a metallic clink.

He stopped the movements of her hand by grabbing her wrist firmly and slowly removing her hand from under her underwear—she watched with fluttering lashes as he trailed her wet fingers over the skin just above her panties, over her navel until the start of her ribcage.

Lowering himself above her—never breaking eye contact while holding her wrist so she couldn't move her hand—he licked her hipbone near the hand still holding the side of her panties, and then left a trail of kisses until he reached the moist trail he'd created—she shivered when he licked the patch of skin just above her panties, a gasp escaping as he swept his tongue under the fabric.

"Sasuke." He couldn't figure out if she called his name in a moan, a whimper, a sigh or a gasp—probably a mixture between the 4—but he loved how her eyes clouded over and she bit her lower lip when he licked up to her navel—licking her essence and leaving a moist trail of saliva—dipping his tongue on the small hollow—she whimpered—and then licking the moist line that ended at her ribs.

"Sasuke." She moaned his name and bit her swollen lower lip again. He smirked at her, licking the skin just below her ribcage before sucking on it—she gasped and shivered.

He kneeled back up, straddling her tights like she'd done to him, and brought his hand closer, tugging her wrist until her fingers were just a breath away from his lips—he saw her suck in a breath.

He never went down without a fight—actually, he never, _ever_, went down.

He blew on her moist fingers and spread his left hand over her belly, playing with the multiple sensations to torment her a little—he smirked and licked the tip of her ring finger when he felt the muscles of her belly spasm.

Her breaths came out in short pants, faltering every time he moved his left hand lower on her skin or licked a little more of the subtly sweet fluid coating her fingers.

"You're a tease." She squirmed when he fingered the thin elastic band of her bunny printed panties and he almost grinned at her words.

"I don't see you complaining." She looked at him with that spitfire look in her eyes that screamed witty remark—but he never let her have a go as he slithered his fingers under her precious limited edition panties, feeling a patch of loose curls, before reaching soft, slippery skin.

Between quivering breaths, she whispered his name and squirmed, lifting her hips towards his fingers. He chuckled—she gave him a mean puppy eyed look that he found oddly cute.

"Patience is a virtue." He licked her palm and the full length of her middle finger, the fingers of his left hand sliding over her slippery folds teasingly.

"Yeah?" she choked on a moan and let out a strangled gasp that ended in a whimper when he slid his tongue around her ring finger and then drew the whole digit into his mouth.

"Hm." He hummed, just to humor her, as he twirled his tongue around the slender digit in his mouth and sucked on it.

"W-well…" she quivered, swallowed and then licked her lips, her eyes on his mouth—he pressed his fingers a little more into her heated core and let one of his fingers slide the tiniest bit inside. "I'm not very patient." He hummed again and then slid her digit out of his mouth, nibbling on the tip before releasing.

"I couldn't tell." She glared at his smirk.

"Get that smug smirk off your face you arrogant…" she cut herself off with a gasp as he slid a digit inside of her, raising a brow at her. "…bastard." She finished lamely, moving her hips to the pace of his finger moving in and out of her—when she sighed his name he added another digit.

He tortured himself as he watched her drown in bliss-land, quenching his craving for her by licking every little drop of her essence from her hand until only her middle finger remained coated in it—drawing the digit into his mouth, he sucked while swirling his tongue over it, enjoying the way she tasted. By the quiet moans and her fluttering lids, he could confidently say she was reaching her climax.

So he pulled out, releasing her wrist and watching her whimper at the loss, opening her misty eyes and looking from the ceiling to him—a glare forming.

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**End of Part IV**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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Hope you liked Part IV!!

Reviews are greatly appreciated, they make my day, so, just take a couple of minutes out of your busy schedule and leave me a few words will ya?! ^.^

So, tell me guys, what happens next?! =O

28 reviews and you'll know what comes next on Friday

30 reviews or more and you'll know what happens next on Wednesday

In the meantime, virtual cookies and lollipops for everyone!! And while I'm at it, have some virtual icecream too!!

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

April 24th 2010


	5. The Feeling

Hi everyone!

A little late, but not toos much…

So I'll keep it short today and start with an "I feel kinda sad this week", because, really, I kinda do – 1 more review and I'd have 28 like I was hoping to get… ToT

Anyway, I was absolutely ecstatic with the reviews I did get, and so here goes a shoutout to _**Chantrea Moonbeam**_, _**Twisted Musalih**_, _**Japanese-Fanatic**_ and _** C.A.M.E.O.1 and Only**_.

And now, because, no, I did not forget the other 3 people that reviewed, here's a special few lines dedicated to these 3 awesome people: _**GodricGirl**_, _**guilty innocence101**_ and _**L123Ryuzaki**_.

To _**GodricGirl**_, I seriously got all emotional when I read your review. I felt, and still feel, so extremely flattered that you'd think I did that good of a job with the characters, I do my best to keep them true to their nature, and to have someone tell me it'd be like that if Masashi Kishimoto-sensei came up with it… I'm speechless really!!

To _**guilty innocence101**_, I hope you didn't get the keyboard marked on your skin from sleeping over your laptop while waiting, lol xD

I usually don't like breaking the 'parts' I make throughout the story 'cause then when you get to reading again it's like something's missing and you have to go back and read something again, but I decided that this time it was worth it—bet it got more than a few people on edge.

Also, I feel really flattered and ended up grinning like a moron after I read your review, writing is something I do for fun only, but I love knowing what others think of what I write, because when it comes to this, I do it to the best of my abilities! I'm glad you think the story's coming along smoothly!

Lastly, to _**L123Ryuzaki**_, even though you wrote a small review compared with the ones from the 2 above mentioned people above, I still think you deserve a special couple of lines 'cause you totally made my day when I opened my inbox and saw it!

Oh, a little sidenote here, no more virtual goodies that have sugar for you Moonbeam xD and yeah, they do seem pretty horny don't they?! Haha

Anyway, on with the chapter, 'cause this AN's already big enough as it is…

Enjoy!!! (^w^)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part V**

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_**Previously on Scarlet Ambiguity:**_

"_Get that smug smirk off your face you arrogant…" she cut herself off with a gasp as he slid a digit inside of her, raising a brow at her. "…bastard." She finished lamely, moving her hips to the pace of his finger moving in and out of her—when she sighed his name he added another digit._

_He tortured himself as he watched her drown in bliss-land, quenching his craving for her by licking every little drop of her essence from her hand until only her middle finger remained coated in it—drawing the digit into his mouth, he sucked while swirling his tongue over it, enjoying the way she tasted. By the quiet moans and her fluttering lids, he could confidently say she was reaching her climax._

_So he pulled out, releasing her wrist and watching her whimper at the loss, opening her misty eyes and looking from the ceiling to him—a glare forming._

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(/-_・)/D・・・・・------ → (;/゜o゜)/

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He moved away, sitting on the bed next to her and watched as she gasped, looking at him in disbelief and hidden despair. He licked his fingers slowly, like a child licking melted ice cream off of his fingers, and faced the rising anger in her eyes, speaking only when she'd sat up to face him and was about to lash out.

"You're still not naked." She closed her mouth shut before saying anything and blushed a deep red—it was… nice to see her shyness mixed with the spitfire attitude. She fidgeted with the strips of baby blue over her hips, her blush covering her whole face and the upper part of her chest.

"I could always—" he licked his index finger slowly. "—just cut it off." She squeaked when he shifted closer to her and put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place—it was nice to tease her and enjoy the foreplay, but he was really starting to crave her to the point where it was painful to hold back.

"Keep away from my bunnies." He raised an amused brow and she turned her back to him, fumbling around on her knees until he saw her drop the precious item of underwear on the floor. Some part of him exclaimed a _finally_.

Reaching forward, he dragged her backwards until she was sitting between his legs, her back pressed tightly against his chest and her nice little ass pressing against his obvious need for her.

"You're still annoying." He sighed the words, kissing her shoulder while gliding his hands over her body—from her shoulders, down over her breasts—which he squeezed gently—and then down her ribs and stomach to stop at her bare hips. She let her head fall back against his shoulder—an open invitation to her neck that he took—obviously enjoying the attention. He was surprised she didn't react to his previous remark, but didn't dwell far into it, more focused on tormenting her with blissful torture until her only coherent thought was his name.

He lavished her neck with kisses and sucks, nipping the tender skin and then licking it to soothe the sting—all the while feasting on the breathy, quiet sounds coming from her and running his hands up and down her thighs.

"Tell me what you want." She nodded absently against his shoulder, another quiet moan coming from her mouth as she brought her hands up and around his neck, fingers tangling in his sweat dampened hair.

"Can I ask anything?" he hummed against her skin—there wasn't much he wouldn't give or do for her at this point—a drop of sweat slid from a loose strand of his bangs and into the flushed skin of her right breast, only to slide down the side of it and into the valley in between.

"Kiss me?" releasing the skin he'd been nibbling on, he trailed kisses up her neck and jaw, then over her cheek until she tilted her head and he captured her lips in a sweet kiss.

"What else?" he couldn't help the low tone of his voice—he was just as breathless as she was. Kami, what she did to him. Her blush darkened but she didn't answer. "What else _Sakura_?" he spoke huskily and sensuously said her name—she was bound to talk, even if it was just nonsense.

"I… um…" she squirmed against him—creating pleasurable friction—and he found it cute that, not long ago, they'd been engaged in overly erotic imitations of sex, and now she was being shy. It was probably the utter lack of clothing—cute nonetheless.

Kami—or Buddha or whatever—when had he started thinking of anything as cute? She would be his downfall.

"Tell me." He breathed against her ear and felt her shiver. "Tell me." He felt her swallow and hold his sweaty hair tighter between her fingers, her sweat covered body sliding against his just as sweaty one in a way that only served to make him crave her even more.

"…um… I…" she pressed her back further into him and whimpered. "You, I want you." He feasted on her words, feeling smug that she couldn't get more than that and then, in a swift move, had her on her back again, his body hovering above her—a look at the only part of her he hadn't seen so far revealed smooth, slippery—from both sweat and arousal—skin and a nicely taken care of triangle of pink loose curls—a few shades darker than her hair.

So pink _was_ her natural hair color.

"What do you want Sakura?" he cupped her cheek, holding himself up on his left forearm—she looked up at him, her eyes shining and clouded with passion, and then wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him down for a sweet kiss.

"I want you." She tugged him back slightly and gave him the puppy eyes again, only this time he was almost sure whatever she'd ask, he wouldn't be able to say no. "So take those sexy boxers of yours off." She licked her lips innocently—seemingly anyway—and pouted. "It's not fair that I'm the only one naked—though you do look hot in only what you're wearing." At the last part, her voice dropped to a seductive whisper. "Besides…" she bit her lower lip and looked at him through dark lashes. "I'm almost sure it's getting very uncomfortable to have that sexy piece of clothing restrain your boy goodies in the state you're in."

She was one hell of a crafty, shrewd and tempting spitfire. _His own little hellcat._ And damn, if he didn't have her soon, he'd lose his sanity for good.

His boxers were quickly discarded, hands going back to exploring each others' bodies and mouths fused together in sensuous kisses—while he held himself on his left forearm, his right arm wrapped around her waist, she encircled her arms around his neck—hands tangled in his hair—and, when the passion and tension levels started smothering them and thickening the air, she wrapped her fine, fine legs around his waist, grinding her core over his dick—that was pressed against his belly as she rocked her hips against his—leaving a path of her wet arousal on his overheated hard flesh.

No more overly erotic imitations of sex—they were naked, already lost in each other with kisses and touches and everything in between.

That exhilarating moment in which the head of his dick pressed between her slippery folds had a shiver running down his spine as he kissed her senseless and boneless—she tightened her hold on him, moaning his name in a quiet mumble between one kiss and the other.

The friction between their sweaty bodies made all his nerve endings buzz in pleasure as he felt their belies pressed together—her breasts tightly pressed against his hard chest—she seemed to enjoy it just as much as he did.

When he couldn't wait anymore, he drove himself into her—slowly to relish the feeling, to relish the moment. At some point, he felt her tense against him, breaking their heated kiss and burying her face into his neck, but it wasn't until he thrust out and back into her heat that he frowned and paused when she whimpered—what made him pause was because it wasn't a whimper like the others, filled with pleasure, ecstasy and that fire that burned in her, he paused, frowning, because that particular whimper sounded pained.

"Sakura." his voice was strained because, fuck, she felt so damn good around him—_so fuckin' tight_. He shifted, trying to see her face, but she let out a strangled kind of whimper—sounding pained again—and tightened the hold she had on him, pressing her face further against his neck. At that moment he noticed other things too—besides the pained-sounding whimpers, her whole body was tense and he could feel her hands trembling against his shoulders.

"Sakura." he called her name, his voice strained, but it sounded a lot like a question. When she didn't answer, he pressed her back securely against the mattress and pried her arms away from his neck so he could see her and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

When he had her arms gently pinned on each side of her head and looked at her face—a lot of his self control going to _not moving_ his lower half so he didn't have to feel so blissfully agonized—the first thing he noticed was that she had her eyes tightly shut and was breathing in a pattern he hated himself for recognizing—she was breathing in the same pattern as when she cried.

And when he noticed all those things together—that's when he became worried, even thought he really wanted not to care about whatever was going on with her and just care about what he needed—what his body needed. Alas, she made him act different and affected him a little too much for his liking—he cared, and that's why he ignored what his over-stimulated body demanded and focused on her—she looked like the 12 year old minus the tears and open show of weakness.

"Sakura?" an open question—because he had no freakin' clue of what else to say—murmured as he stroked a sweaty strand of pastel pink hair out of her face and behind her ear. "What's wrong?" well, at least, even in a, well, _heated_ situation like he was in, he could still keep a poker-face.

She slowly opened her eyes—guarded and closed to the world, he noted—and proceeded to open her mouth, try to say something, and close it again when she couldn't find anything. She didn't move, but she did look away from him—ok, now that definitely raised his suspicions.

He shifted above her—gritting his teeth to keep his control—and noticed her wince. It was at that moment, as he was about to question her again, that he caught the smell. Mixing with the smell of her, him, sweat, their arousal, erotic kisses and passion, was the faint smell of blood—from the faint intensity of it, it wasn't much, maybe from a nosebleed or a small cut—but neither of them had a nosebleed and he could see the kunai from earlier on the floor, so that couldn't be it. So it either came from somewhere else—but it couldn't come from somewhere else, he could smell it on them.

He looked down at her, his analytical mind trying to figure out what was happening—when he caught her furtive glance at him—accompanied by her crying-patterned breathing and her tense body—and chewed down on her bottom lip in a nervous gesture he recognized, his mind just seemed to click. _Enigma solved._

Something inside of him seemed to soar and flutter—he shoved it on the farthest corner of his mind—as the realization that she'd never done this with anyone else hit him. That soaring, fluttering something growled in possessiveness _Mine, mine, mine. _And suddenly his possessives thoughts from before went up to a whole new level. _My claim, mine to claim, to possess. Mine._ It purred in delight._ All mine._

She was a virgin. Well, until a few moments ago anyway.

He ignored his sanity—or lack thereof—and would have smiled down at her if his pride allowed it. Instead, he ran his hand over her cheek in a tender gesture, lowering himself closer to her so he could press his body against hers—so he could run his free hand over her delightful body and kiss every sweet spot he'd discovered on her neck, collarbone, face, jaw, and everywhere he could reach, so she would relax and enjoy it.

As he lavished attention on her body, at first she didn't do anything, but after a while, she wrapped her arms back around his neck, closing her eyes softly to, he presumed, focus on the feelings of his hands and mouth on her body.

When she finally started to enjoy herself again, the annoying soaring and fluttering thingy inside of him came back with an inflated ego the size of the Fire Country, purring in delight. _All mine. My claim. Mine to possess, mine to spoil. Mine to cherish._ It seriously made no sense at all, and that's why he ignored it and finally let his hips start rocking against hers, sliding his length in and out of her heated, slippery core—_fuck, fuck, fuck, so damn good, so damn tight_—focusing on the pleasured breathless moans, sighs, whimpers and murmurs that came from the girl underneath him.

His name left her lips from time to time in one of those breathless sounds that only served to fuel his passion—her nails raked over his back and shoulders, leaving red angry lines—adding to the ones he already had—and occasionally breaking the skin as she dug her nails into the skin of his back each time his aroused member touched something inside of her that made her stop breathing for a few seconds in heavenly pleasure.

He hated that he did, but was too wound up in her to care about the groans and choked moans that left his lips as her inner walls hugged his dick snugly, sending waves of extra pleasure when her muscles spasmed and contracted around him—he held his weight on his left forearm, resting the limb behind her head and fisting the sheet underneath tightly, his right hand roaming her body, fondling her breasts and rubbing that little bundle of nerves between her legs for the most part—by the blissful look on her face and the pleasure-filled breathless sounds, he deemed it safe to assume she was as lost in him as he was in her.

He kissed her on and off—when he had the mind to make another body part other than his hips move—their lips moving in synch, tongues moving in languid, erotic slides that made him all the more hard for her. He thrust into her in the same languid rhythm—she seemed to let his hips guide hers—and he honestly didn't want it to be neither faster or harder—the slow, almost lazy pace of their hips thrusting into each other heightened his senses, setting every last one of his nerve endings aflame.

The slow, almost lazy rhythm let him be enthralled by the way she reacted to him—to what he did. It allowed him to lose himself completely in her, to drown in the pleasure and feel every last bit of it. It allowed him to catch her every breathless sound, every breath that got caught in her throat, every flutter of her lashes, every spasm and contraction of every one of her muscles. It allowed him to hear every quiet call of his name, to catch every clouded look she gave him, to take pleasure in every languid kiss and every touch of her hands on him.

But most of all, the almost lazy rhythm of their hips allowed him to possess her so completely that she could only see, smell, taste, hear, touch and think about him—he made sure he possessed her in a way that even if every last mark and bite he put on her body disappeared, she would still feel them—still feel him—like brands that blazed and reminded her of his claim on her. He possessed her in a way that would have her craving him every time she looked at herself in a mirror—that would make her turn down every single male that came her way because she'd know he claimed her—she was his and no one else's'.

At some point—what seemed like hours later—the air around them turned warm and moist—like a 45ºC summer day in a tropical forest. Their bodies covered in sweat, both her hair and his soggy—beads of sweat dripped down from his bangs—as the salty liquid glided down their bodies—the sheets underneath them were drenched—his eyes shifted to sharingan, the 3 black tomoes spinning lazily on the red irises.

His breath caught in his throat—he could see every little detail—when a bead of sweat ran down her chin and then—as she leaned her head backwards, back arching off of the bed pressing soft breasts to his hard chest, one hand fisted in his drenched hair while she dug the nails of the other into the skin of his lower back—the clear droplet ran down the creamy length on her throat, sliding into the hollow between her collarbones just as he slid his whole length in her, her thighs and inner muscles tightening around him.

And—compliments to his kekkai genkai—it was like watching it in slow motion, the pleasure burning through him, as a shiver ran down his spine, more intense—the molten lava in his veins flowing faster. Adding the breathless pleasured moan of his name coming from her lips, it was the freakin' most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed.

He kissed her then—always slow and languid and lingering, their tongues sliding erotically against one another—his body pressed as close to hers as humanly possible—the slick friction pure ecstasy—while his free right hand groped her breast.

He could feel her starting to quiver—their hips grinding at the same almost lazy pace—their eyes locking as she wound both arms around his neck, hands gripping his soggy hair.

He couldn't tell if he broke the kiss, or if she did, but it really didn't matter. Their breaths mingled—hot and moist coming out in shallow pants—and he pressed his forehead to hers—sweaty, soggy bangs sticking to their skin and mixing together at the contact—sharingan eyes watching her clouded in ecstasy emerald green ones—his probably looked the same.

He thrust his hips into her a few more times before she shivered—tightening her hold on his neck—arching her body into him, eyes fluttering and rolling to the back of her head, fingers grasping his drenched hair as her legs slid down over his ass and thighs, one sliding down to the bed while the other stayed over his thigh, calf near his knee.

He choked on a groan when she whimpered his name so quietly he almost didn't hear it, the muscles of her belly and thighs spasming—his mouth went dry and he would've closed his eyes if he hadn't been so enthralled by how goddamn beautiful she looked as she climaxed—she almost glowed. _So fucking beautiful._

He swallowed the nonexistent lump in his throat and licked his lips, just about to reach the edge as well—and he did when her inner muscles tightened just as he was thrusting into her.

He moaned—and decided to hate himself for moaning later—and buried his face in her neck, grinding his hips against hers as something inside of him seemed to explode—probably a volcano considering he had lava running through his veins—every muscle of his body tensing. Shivers ran down his spine as he released his seed deep into her—almost choking as he moaned her name against the bite mark on the right side of her neck.

He stilled, still buried deep in her core, as he rode the high, holding her tight against him—almost too tight—and he never wanted it to end, never wanted the ecstasy to go away, never wanted to let her go.

When he managed to catch his breath—his heartbeat slowing some—he could feel her fingers running through his hair—hot breath softly tickling the skin of his neck as she tried to regulate her own breathing.

Still too sluggish to move—she didn't seem to want him to go anywhere anyway—he focused on trying to get back some of his composure—listening to her racing heart and enjoying the way her fingers moved through his hair.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he nibbled on the skin of the junction of her shoulder and neck, licking it and then sucking on it gently. She hummed and leaned her head against his, slowly turning to face him.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, both still dazed, and then kissed—slow, close-mouthed for the most part, tender kisses as the pleasure-induced high they were in slowly started fading away, leaving them in a heavenly sated exhausted state.

When he managed to find the will to move, he rolled over onto his side—containing a moan as he slid out of her core—pulled her to him and let himself indulge in tender kisses and gentle touches.

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o(^^o)(o^^)oおまけ

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Their skin became sticky as the sweat started to dry, but he honestly couldn't care less, he'd take getting sticky with sweat because of what they'd just done anytime over having enemy blood dry on his skin.

They didn't talk much—in his defense, he wasn't a wordy person to begin with, and he seriously wouldn't have been able to say anything worthwhile—until they were about to fall asleep, but before they got to that stage, they... _played_.

He had no idea why—his rational thoughts seemed to have deserted him—but he had the sudden—weird—urge to play with her, as if they were kids, so he rolled them over and started tickling her.

She squirmed, giggling merrily—he'd had the sneaky feeling she'd been grumbling on purpose before—her eyes lighting up with laughter and delight and a sweet kind of innocence that shinobi rarely managed to keep within themselves. She seemed happy, and he decided he liked to see her like that—happy and giddy and laughing and smiling at him.

He wrestled her when she tried to flip them over playfully—she giggled and pouted, the laughter never leaving her eyes.

When he let her reverse their positions, he kissed her and let her tickle him—he kept in control at first, squirming when she found a ticklish spot, but then she giggled and kept probing and poking, and the more she delighted herself with his squirming, the more he found himself letting go of all his inhibitions until he let himself be a kid with her.

She was poking at his ribs when his inhibitions snapped—more like she made them snap—and he laughed.

There was a moment in which his laughter mixed with her giggles as she kept poking and tickling him—and then they fell into a serene silence.

Their eyes locked, and she had a soft smile on her face, her head tilted to the side with a twinkle in her eyes—he blinked, realizing he still had his sharingan activated, and let his eyes turn back to onyx. With that smile still on her face, she bent down and kissed his cheek before leaving a lingering kiss on his lips, one of her hands cupping his cheek as she leaned back to look at him.

"I like your laugh." She murmured the words softly, her smile never faltering and then cuddled up to him—only when he felt her breasts press into his chest did it dawned on him that they were still naked—though they'd been so comfortable with each other that it hadn't bothered them.

After that they rolled around the bed a little more, clumsily crawling under the sheets while stealing kisses and lingering touches.

They lay in the middle of the bed—well, he did, she just cuddled up to him, her head resting on his left shoulder as he draped an arm over her waist, the sheets covering them only from the waist down—the village may have had shitty monsoon weather, but the inn had a good heating system that allowed the guest to sleep without blankets.

He felt her doze off a little—not enough to be considered sleep—a few times—she shifted slightly each time. All the while, he watched her—her smile seemed to be permanent, lips slightly parted as she breathed—her warm breath felt like a feather brushing over his skin.

He was starting to doze off too, his body relaxing against the mattress as he let himself be cocooned by the heavenly exhaustion that would lead to a restful sleep. And he would've fallen asleep if that damned dull stinging ache in his shoulder and chest wouldn't have reared its ugly head, making sleep not an option.

He gritted his teeth and took a calming breath, willing the pain away so he could enjoy a peaceful sleep, for once—only to sober up completely as his shoulder started to feel as if it was twisted at an odd angle. _Fuck_. It'd been a while since the pain had gotten so intense, usually it was just a dull ache.

He shifted—cursing Orochimaru's sadistic ass to the deepest depths of hell—and disentangled himself from the snoozing girl beside him. She shifted a little, mumbling something under her breath, until she was laying belly down on the bed, her face turned in his direction. She looked really peaceful, her cheeks still a little pink and her hair a messy—and sexy—disarray, some strands falling over her face.

With a soundless sigh, he sat up in the bed, half bending his knees, and running a hand through his hair in agitation—his shoulder would hurt like a bitch for a while.

Propping his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands, the stinging pain in his muscles sobering him up to the point he felt like beating himself up for what he'd just done with her—it shouldn't have happened. It would only cause problems for the both of them—he knew she'd ask him not to go, not to leave, but he didn't want anything that attached him to his past. And he would leave and it would be a repeat of when he'd left Konoha.

With a frustrated sigh, he straightened and shifted, dropping his right hand on his left shoulder—moving the limb back to where the seal used to be, he started massaging the area, trying to soothe the pain.

"…Sasuke?..." apparently she'd woken up—though she hadn't exactly been asleep—when the mattress moved when he shifted. She sounded sleepy, and when he looked back at her, she looked sleepy too, her eyes half-lidded. He saw something pass through her eyes—hurt and sadness—before she looked down, curling in on herself a little—she almost seemed to shrink.

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**End of Part V**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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Part V ends here, hope you enjoyed!!

So… 27 reviews this week, can I get a few more so I have 35 ?!

If I do before Tuesday I'll update Wednesday!!

In the meantime, I know you want to, so drop a review before closing the page!! ^w^

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

May 1st 2010


	6. The Soul

Let me start by saying: OMG you guys, thank you so much!!

I'm so freakin' happy, as in, really—I'm even grinning like an idiot!!

This week, I got more reviews than I asked for and, really, I couldn't be happier!!

So, lemme give a shoutout and a virtual supah mega glomp to my beloved reviewers that I absolutely love: _**Twisted Musalih**_, _**C.A.M.E.O.1 and only**_, _**Yoz**_, _**kirs1016**_, _**Chantrea Moonbeam**_, _**Taichi09**_, _**crazysasukexsakurafan9000**_, _**LittleGreenWolf**_ and _**GodricGirl**_!! Thanks so much you guys!! (^.^)

So now, answering the reviews I got, I'm glad you all liked the previous chapter, I really put a lot into it so it would flow naturally and the characters would stay in character—so, who liked Sasuke's little possessive side?!

I end up grinning like an idiot every time I check my inbox and the little "review alert" shows up, and I feel really really flattered when you guys tell me my writing's good—I feel absolutely giddy!! But besides my happiness and all, I know I'm not the best out there, I know a lot of author's that are better than me—I need to start reading a lot of fanfics again, and then I'll give you guys a list of my faves that you absolutely have to read…

In the meantime, I'll just leave you guys 2 of my faves, because they're absolutely amazing, so go check them out!!

_**The bet**_by _Blade Redwind _and _**Change in Direction**_by _Tasha Ashes_

Now, as a special sidenote to _**GodricGirl**_, I seriously, absolutely love your reviews, they leave me speechless each time—and very very flattered!! (.^u^.)

Like you said, a story isn't just about action, a good story needs to have emotions and feelings portrayed so you can know what goes in the characters' mind—that's how I like to read, so that's why I do my best to write it like that!!

So, anyway, just one last thing, and I know this is ending up as a huge author's note, but I feel like I need to answer you guys… so I do!! ^3^

So, here's part VI, hope you enjoy!!

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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_**Clarification:**__As far as my story goes, Orochimaru is dead and buried—or not—6 feet under—dead and gone and not coming back to life. Which means he isn't in Sasuke anymore._

_Sasuke doesn't have the seal anymore, and I try to keep up with the manga as much as possible, so that isn't coming back either, but I'm assuming that where the curse used to be, because of the strain Sasuke went through every time he used it, it would damage his nerves and muscles, hence why the muscles of his shoulder would still hurt even after the curse is long gone._

_As far as his chest his concerned, if you've been keeping up with the manga, you'll know that when Sasuke fights Killer Bee he takes on a deadly hit that ripped his chest open. In order to save him, Juugo makes a kind of "transfusion" of some of his skin to close Sasuke's wound—as far as Kishimoto-sensei explained it, this exchange is possible because Juugo is the origin of the cursed seals and Sasuke had the cursed seal for a period of time, so they're somehow complatible._

_Now, concerning the "monster" in Sasuke, that has nothing to do with Orochimaru. The monster is just something I created that would represent Sasuke's dark side, per se, the part of him that is pure evil and would kill, destroy and cause chaos with no boundaries if Sasuke didn't keep it under control._

_Hope this cleared out some things that may have caused some confusion!_

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part VI**

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_**Previously on Scarlet Ambiguity:**_

_With a soundless sigh, he sat up in the bed, half bending his knees, and running a hand through his hair in agitation—his shoulder would hurt like a bitch for a while._

_Propping his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands, the stinging pain in his muscles sobering him up to the point he felt like beating himself up for what he'd just done with her—it shouldn't have happened. It would only cause problems for the both of them—he knew she'd ask him not to go, not to leave, but he didn't want anything that attached him to his past. And he would leave and it would be a repeat of when he'd left Konoha._

_With a frustrated sigh, he straightened and shifted, dropping his right hand on his left shoulder—moving the limb back to where the seal used to be, he started massaging the area, trying to soothe the pain._

"…_Sasuke?..." apparently she'd woken up—though she hadn't exactly been asleep—when the mattress moved when he shifted. She sounded sleepy, and when he looked back at her, she looked sleepy too, her eyes half-lidded. He saw something pass through her eyes—hurt and sadness—before she looked down, curling in on herself a little—she almost seemed to shrink._

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(/-_・)/D・・・・・------ → (;/゜o゜)/

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"…ne, Sasuke, don't go yet." She spoke in a quiet whisper, and he didn't fail to notice her choice of words—_yet_. He stayed silent and she didn't look back up at him, the serenity that had been in her face moments ago fading as she twirled her index finger in her pillow.

"I'm not stupid, and I'm not a naïve little girl anymore." Her fingers stopped and she sighed sadly. "I know you're not going back to Konoha, I never deluded myself into thinking you would." Her words surprised him—more than just a little. "I won't ask you to go back either, I never intended to. I've known it's pointless for years now." He kept watching her in silence, surprised by how… mature she was.

She sighed and turned on her side to face him, both her hands reaching out and taking his free hand in hers. "Still…" she trailed off and he glanced at their hands when she started playing with his fingers. "Still—" she looked up into his eyes, her own carefully guarded. "—can you stay just a little longer?"

When he didn't answer, she looked back at their hands—the fingers of one of her hands played with his, the others tracing patterns across his palm and wrist.

"I'm perfectly aware that once we leave, we most likely won't see each other for a long time." She laughed wryly to herself. "_If_ we ever see each other again." she paused and sighed quietly, drawing her knees up to her chest. "And even if we do see each other again, I know we'll pretend none of this ever happened."

With a quiet sigh, she let go of his hand and pulled the sheet up until it covered her chest as she curled into ball. And there it was again, that queasy feeling gnawing at his insides—guilt and something he wasn't sure what it was.

"I won't ask you to stay or to go back with me, I won't cry and beg when you leave either." She raised the sheet a little more until it covered her face—at the moment, she reminded him of a child. "I won't tell you I love you, and I won't ask for a fairy-tale, happily-ever-after life with you either." She looked up at him, her eyes an open book—apprehension, fear and defeat, it was as if she was bracing herself for rejection.

"Despite all that, can you still stay a little longer?" she spoke so quietly he barely heard her—it probably took a lot of guts to do what she did, ask for something when you knew you'd most likely be rejected.

In all honesty, he'd always thought of her as an annoying little girl that cried too much and always needed saving—but now he had to change that. She was still annoying—still got too much and too deep under his skin—but she was headstrong, stubborn, confident and skilled—she didn't need saving and she didn't cry at the littlest thing.

She'd lead him to his downfall—or maybe his salvation, he wasn't sure which. Downfall seemed more likely, though he couldn't be sure.

He sighed quietly and braced his left hand on the mattress—inwardly wincing at the pain in his shoulder—twisting his torso slightly to face her better. She seemed to be finding the pillow very interesting while she fidgeted with the sheet that still covered half of her face.

With another sigh he reached towards her with his right hand and brushed a strand of pink hair out of her eyes. "You're _so_ annoying." His fingers lingered on her cheek as she looked up at him, surprised.

"You're… staying?" he didn't say anything, just let his finger trace over her cheek and then hooked it on the sheet she was holding over her face, tugging on it until she released it—he traced her jaw, down her neck and over her shoulder as he dragged the sheet down until it rested on her upper arm.

"Hn." She stared at him in wonder for a while, and then a shy smile formed on her lips as she sat up slightly, holding the sheet to her chest.

"That's not even a word you dumbass." He rolled his eyes at her recycled words.

"And you're annoying." She giggled quietly and sat on her knees, letting the sheet slide down—he refrained from looking lower than her face—as she reached for his right hand, tugging him closer to her—he winced when a muscle just above his left collarbone seemed to rip, though he knew it hadn't.

Her shy smile turned into a worried frown.

"Are you ok?" she tilted her head to the side, the corners of her mouth turning downwards and a small dip forming between her brows.

"It's nothing." He dismissed her worries, he didn't need anyone's pity or charity.

"Don't give me that crap." The defiance was back in her eyes, daring him to lie to her. "Now, you either tell me what hurts or I'm poking and probing 'til I find out on my own." The spitfire was back. He sighed and huffed, half-heartedly glaring at her.

"You're annoying." She rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively.

"Sure, sure. Just tell me where it hurts." He contained the exasperated sigh, she was truly… _annoying_. With a half-hearted glare that she ignored—which annoyed him—he sat up completely and took one of her hands. She raised a brow, but he ignored, which in turn seemed to annoy her. _Good, now we're even._

Still ignoring her, he put her hand where the cursed seal used to be and then made her hand slide down his skin, over his chest to the ending of his ribcage.

Her mouth formed a little 'oh' and then she pursed her lips, her frown deepening as she scooted closer to him, both her hands coming up to run over his chest and shoulder, some of her chakra getting under his skin—it felt as if her warm fingers were gently feeling and probing the muscles underneath the skin, only it was her chakra.

He raised a brow when a small pout formed on her face, curious. She didn't seem to notice though, focused on what she was doing.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" she glanced at him, the pout still on her lips and he gave her a questioning stare. Her cheeks tinted pink and she looked down, back to what she was doing. "Well… you know… hm…" it amused him to see her squirm in that adorable way of hers, the light from the early morning lightening her features—he hadn't even noticed it was already early morning, probably close to 8 a.m. considering the blurred-by-clouds-and-rain light. _Kami-sama, we spent over 2 hours…_

His lips twitched upward when her blush spread over her face, her ears turning pink as well as her upper chest—she looked… _kinda cute_.

"Well, hm…" she paused and glared up at him—how non-intimidating with her pout and blush. "You're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?" he cocked his head to the side, what the hell was she talking about?

"Oh, for the love of—" she cut herself off with an incoherent grumble. "You shouldn't put any strain on the muscles—which you obviously did when we… you know." So that's what she was all embarrassed about.

"What _do_ I know?" he made himself look as innocent and confused as he could, it was fun to push her buttons. She gave him an incredulous blank stare.

"Should I check your frontal and temporal lobes as well to see if there's something wrong with your short term memory?" well, that was unexpected—amusing, but unexpected. With a sniff, she focused on what she was doing again, her hands glowing a pale green while she pressed gently on his skin—he could feel the healing chakra inside of him, mending something.

This type of healing, it was completely different from the way Karin's chakra healed—Sakura's healed in a more… gentle and thorough manner. She focused on what she was doing completely, doing her very best to fix whatever was damaged.

"You're a really stupid moron." She gave him a stern look that reminded him of when his mother would scold him for asking his brother to play with him when said brother had homework to do. "You didn't even get the injuries properly healed." She let out an aggravated sigh. "There's a seriously screwed up mess going on." She scrunched her nose and he thought it was cute—_bad thoughts, bad thoughts, get a hold of yourself man, you shouldn't be thinking this way_.

"Whoever healed your chest injury seriously messed up the joining of the foreign tissue and yours. Not a wonder it hurts like a bitch, probably on and off, the joining of tissue at cellular level is poorly done—the cells should've been tweaked to be compatible with your metabolism before being fused together with yours." She shook her head with a 'tsk' and scrunched her nose again, looking up at him as her hands moved up to his shoulder.

"That, and there's this—"she made a disgusted face. "—really nasty and icky chakra all over your system." She made another face, as if she'd smelled something foul. "Not to mention disgusting."

"Chakra?" that was strange, he didn't remember ever feeling any disturbances or anything getting on his chakra system.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Has a really icky feel to it, weird thing though, is that it's like someone purposely put it there, probably while you were being healed or something." She shrugged and went back to work.

"Purposely?" she nodded again and hummed.

"No clue as to why someone'd do something like that if they're not trying to kill ya though." They fell silent after that, and he found himself thinking about what she said. The only people that he allowed to come close to him when he was injured, and that could actually heal him, were Karin, Jugo when he'd fought the 8 tails, and, on occasion Zetsu. He frowned, the incompatibility with the cells were probably there because he'd been healed in a rush so he wouldn't die, but the chakra in his system… it couldn't be Jugo, the guy was too nice and wasn't a healer, and Zetsu wouldn't waste his chakra in something pointless.

A scowl marred his features, the bitch had put her chakra in him to track him down—fucking idiot had to have stalkerish tendencies.

"There, all done!" she smiled brightly at him, a twinkle in her eyes. With a start he realized she was happy because she'd fixed the problem.

"Aw, don't I get a thank you kiss?" she giggled when he looked at her blankly and then got off the bed, very much naked. He swallowed and couldn't help watching her walk towards the table at the far right of the room where her bag was, gracefully avoiding the scattered documents on the floor. And very much _naked_.

The morning light cast a glow over her, and no matter how hard he tried, he seriously couldn't get his eyes off of her. He'd thought her beautiful in the dark, but the light only made him see her even better. Did he mention she was very much naked? And did he mention he was fantasizing about her sweet, sweet body quivering underneath him?

She would be his downfall if she kept walking around in her sexy nakedness—_oh, fuck, she has a really nice ass_. _And a fine pair of sexy legs._

He didn't even notice what she was doing by the table—_was she getting something from her bag?_—he couldn't focus on anything else but her body. And when she turned around—_dear lord_, she was beautiful. And sexy. And… well, in one word, she was _hot_.

Thank Kami—or Buddha or whatever—for his mastered poker face.

She avoided the scattered things on the floor again and then crawled back on the bed, sitting on her knees in front of him, holding a reddish marble-sized pill for him to take.

"Here, chew and swallow, it'll clear your system of the icky chakra." He nodded and took the pill, eyeing it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. While he chewed, he noticed Sakura yawning, a hand covering her mouth while the other rubbed one of her eyes.

When he swallowed the fruity-flavored pill, he let himself fall back on the bed. Wow, she'd really healed the damn muscles perfectly. His muscles felt soothed—the expression 'as good as new' seemed oddly fitting. He'd have to thank her later, maybe do something nice for her.—w_hoa, where did that come from?_

She crawled next to him and snuggled against his side, pulling the sheet up over her body, letting it drop at her waist. Reflexively—he told himself he'd think about whatever was happening to him—them—at the moment later—he wrapped his arms around her.

"Ne, Sasuke." He glanced down at her and then turned on his side, wrapping his arms tightly around her—she hummed contently and snuggled against him, one of her hands against his chest while she draped the other over his waist. "Don't leave while I'm still asleep." Her words came out as a mumble, followed by a yawn.

"Hm." He hummed and closed his eyes, sleep finally starting to overtake him—sweet heaven, no more pain to keep him awake.

"G'night Sasuke-kun." Burying his nose on top of her hair, he let out a contented sigh.

"Night."

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ｵ(･ｪ･)ﾔ(･ｪ-)ｽ(-ｪ･)ﾐ(-ｪ-)｡o○Zzz…

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He'd always been a light sleeper.

No, that wasn't quite right, he'd been a light sleeper ever since the massacre.

The first months that followed, he'd wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, more often than not screaming and crying. He'd sit up on his bed—unable to stop the tears and sobs—knees drawn up to his chest as he hugged them, face buried in his arms as he cried and sobbed and wailed.

He'd often close his eyes tightly, his small body rocking back and forth as he cried, and imagine that his mother was there, cradling him lovingly and whispering soothing words. He'd let himself believe that it had all been a nightmare and that his mother was really there.

But it never was a nightmare, it was always reality.

As time went by, the visions of the massacre kept haunting him, but after some time, the tears stopped coming, only the cold sweat and shivers remained.

When he became a member of Team 7, the nightmares still came, but never in full force, there were always flashes of an orange clad, obnoxious blond, a smiling, red clad, pink haired girl and of a lazy grey haired jounin carrying an orange book. The nightmares were always broken by the sound of laughter, insults and lame excuses for being late.

After he left the village and went to Orochimaru, he gained a kind of immunity to the nightmares—the ones of the massacre and of what he saw at the bases of the Snake Sannin.

His whole life—or rather, ever since the massacre, he could almost count the nights of restful sleep with no nightmares or visions of massacres, torture, blood or death. Or a combination of all and more.

Ever since the massacre, he'd always sleep on edge, waking up easily—it was almost more meditation than sleep.

The sudden loss of warmth against his body bothered him—he tried to reach out to get the warmth back, but it was already gone.

The slight shift of the mattress didn't wake him up—he only shifted his body to lie on his side.

The light sounds of footsteps and shuffling didn't wake him up either—it made him think of his mother when she came to wake him up on Saturday mornings, she'd always let him sleep in while she tidied up.

The sounds of a door opening and closing didn't wake him up—the sound of a door opening and closing again a while (seconds? minutes?) later didn't wake him up either.

He slept peacefully—the best rest he'd had in years.

Perhaps minutes later—he couldn't tell, he wasn't really conscious of what was happening around him, only that there was no danger—he felt something soft and warm running across the side of his face, brushing some strands of raven locks aside. It felt nice.

With a soundless sigh, he shifted lightly and leaned towards the fingers grazing his skin—but they were gone. He frowned lightly—_stupid dreams_—but still didn't wake up.

He thought he heard a giggle—the sound airy, soft and melodic—close to him, but dismissed the thought as part of the dream.

His eyelids fluttered open—just barely—when he felt something soft, subtle and slightly moist over his lips—it made something in his belly start to flutter. When he glimpsed pastel pink, he let his eyes flutter shut again—_it's just a dream._

With his eyes closed, he reached for _her_ lazily—it was just a dream, there was no way she could really be there—tangling one hand in her silk-soft pink hair and, while lazily rolling onto his back, pulling her closer with the other—he never broke the sweet kiss they were sharing.

She came willingly, slowly crawling over him as he pulled her closer, his left hand resting over her waist as she cuddled up to him, her body sprawled on top of his—he felt more than heard her whispering his name against his lips, her nimble fingers tangling in his hair.

The light weight and softness of her body over his was oddly comforting—as if she belonged there. He relished the feel, taste and warmth of her and her kisses—he never wanted the dream to end.

Some part of him tried to tell him it wasn't a dream and he was doing something he shouldn't, but the fluttery and fuzzy feeling that was starting to spread over his body pushed it away—it felt too nice to stop.

Later, he would wonder what the hell had happened to the rational side of his brain, but never go too deep into thought—he just couldn't bring himself to hate himself for what had happened, that would mean things he knew weren't true, and he was tired of trying to lie to himself.

He rolled them over, the sheet sliding against his skin and tangling in his legs, as he ran his hands over her curves, feeling the softness of the clothing she was wearing—it felt oddly like his t-shirt.

She sighed his name and arched her back as he dragged the fabric of the baggy t-shirt she was wearing up her curves, stopping just as he reached her shoulder blades to run his hands over the smooth skin of her back, feeling every little scar that proved she was real and not some kind of porcelain doll—it was _such a realistic dream_.

Her hands running over his skin felt like the most blissful kind of caress, just like her kisses were the tastiest treat that existed. Hands on her waist, he pulled her flush against him and dragged his hands up her arched back, discarding the loose t-shirt to the floor.

With gentle caresses, soft touches and languid kisses, he undressed her slowly, kissing every single inch of her smooth skin.

"Sasuke." Her voice was nothing but a whisper against his cheek, her breath warm and moist against his skin as he shifted above her, the sheet tangled around their intertwined legs sliding over their skin until it only covered their lower halves.

Right hand tangled in her silk-soft locks as he held himself above her on his forearm, he wrapped his left arm around her waist, holding her as close to him as possible—not so much in an erotic gesture, but more in an intimate embrace—lips slowly moving against hers in a kiss that, although sensual, expressed a connection far deeper than just physical.

He made love to her then—even thought much later he still refused to admit it. Slowly and without any thoughts in his mind—there was just her.

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**End of Part VI**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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I know that I made a hugeass author's note and that the chapter in itself is only 6 word pages long or so, but I hope you're still pleased with it.

So, part VI ends here, and part VII will be the last part… I know, but I did say, at the very beginning, that this story wouldn't have a lot of chapter—it was supposed to be a oneshot when I started it.

In compensation, like I promised, I'm updating earlier because I'm so damn happy about my reaviews—and I know that before closing this page completely you wanna leave a new review :P

Virtual cookies for the first reviewer!! \(^o^)/

Now I'm thinking of maybe updating on Monday, but if I get over 45 reviews I'll update on Saturday!! ^.^

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

May 5th, 2010


	7. The Secret

So, as promised, and because I feel so unbelievably happy this week, I'm posting today instead of Monday!!

**Caution:** Hugeass author's note lies ahead, so my apologies considering this last chapter isn't all that big!

So, instead of just making and endless rant, I'll be somehow organized today xD

_**Shoutouts to:**_

_**Twisted Musalih**_, _**Taichi09**_, _**Sakura's Indecision**_, _**guilty innocence101**_, _**chikitets1016**_, _**shai-duck**_, _** Perceptive Pawn**_, _** C.A.M.E.O.1 and Only**_, _**Chantera Moonbeam**_, _**Little GreenWolf**_, _** the tomato**_ and _** GodricGirl**_

And now, even though it's a bit later than I wanted to update, the last part of Scarlet Ambiguity, hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think!!

Answers to reviews are at the bottom a/n, so don't forget to read that!!

This chapter is dedicated to my beloved Ri-chan, to whom I've made this story for—she's the reason I finished it ^w^ –and to all my beloved readers and reviewers, I just love you guys so much, thanks for all the lovely reviews!!

I promise, after tse next couple of weeks in which I have a few things that're making me nervours to do for school, I'll start working on sth new, so please, don't hesitate and tell me what kind of thing you'd like me to do next, it actually helps since I always seem to have way too many ideas and end up not knowing what to choose!!

There's so much I'd like to say… but I don't know how, so… hope the last part of SA pleases you all!!

**Recommendations:** aka stories I find absolutely amazing ^w^

_**Zoo**_ by _annabananaa_**, **

_**Togetherish**_by _DeepPoeticGirl_,

_**Unrevealed Mistake Of A One Night Stand**_ by _DeepPoeticGirl_,

_**A Whisper in the Night**_ by _ IncessantOblivion_,

_**Missioning With You**_ by _Surmise_,

_**Illusions**_ by _stones_ and

_**Confessions of a Sinner**_ by _withered-soup_.

Check them out, they're all really amazing!!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or its characters, I do, on the other hand, own the plot of this story!

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_**Summary:**_ _Monsoon weather, a disturbing freak-show house and someone from his past -- what could possibly go wrong._

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Part VII**

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_**Previously on Scarlet Ambiguity:**_

_He made love to her then—even thought much later he still refused to admit it. Slowly and without any thoughts in his mind—there was just her._

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( ￣)y―oo0O0O○** ﾊﾟﾁﾝ

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With a jolt, he sat up in his bed—his hair stuck to his skin as sweat ran down his forehead. Panting, he buried his face in his hands, closing his eyes tightly—as tightly as he could.

"Fuck." Throwing the sheets away from his body, he sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the cool wooden floor. Running a hand through his hair—sticky with sweat—he tugged at it before letting go and getting up.

Opening the window, he bend over the ledge, arms extended and muscles tense as he closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze that flew in. The scent of cherry blossoms was carried by the wind—the flowers were in full bloom and he hated every single one of them for reminding him of _her_.

Clenching his fists against the ledge, he stared up at the sky, still dark but slowly turning a soft violet as the sun rose.

"Damn it."

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|･ω･｀)ｺｯｼｮﾘ

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The softness of her breasts pressed against his chest as she arched her back, her clear emerald green eyes never looking away from his, their lips hovering oh-so-close.

Their hips moved to a rhythm that seemed as natural as breathing, as if it had been made for them, and the pleasure coursed through his veins—a slow burning fire that never seemed to stop burning.

He brushed his lips against her, thrusting his hips forward, and her breath hitched—her hands moved over his back, the sweat making their skin slick, and she clung to him tighter.

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o(^^o)(o^^)o わくわく

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Slamming the bathroom door closed, he turned on the cold water and stepped under the spray, not even caring about the temperature. Only after he was soaked, the tips of his fingers feeling as if they were being endlessly probed with needles, did he take off the boxers he was wearing.

Never changing the water temperature, he washed away the sweat and tried to clear his head of all thoughts.

His thoughts continued to be consumed by her.

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（*＾＾）＾*） Chu！！

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Head buried on her neck as he held her as tightly against his body as he could—he was sure he was borderline holding too tightly—as she clung to him, he let the wave of blissful pleasure consume him as he reached his climax, his hips still moving to prolong the feeling for as long as he could.

A few seconds later she followed him into blissland.

He could never forgive himself for tightening his hold on her even more as he whispered his deepest, darkest and most well kept secret.

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(*´ο`*)=3 はふぅん

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The trivial actions of getting dressed, eating breakfast and leaving the apartment to go walk around the port village were something he'd come to hate—he'd come to hate a lot of things that had made of part of what he considered the foundation of leading a good life—when it came to the merely physical aspect of living at least.

The streets were empty still at 6am, but the smell of fresh bread floated in the air accompanied by the low chatter of the fisherman walking towards the docks.

Walking past a middle aged woman carrying an empty basket—who eyed him with a flintiness he found somewhat repulsive—he cursed the oh-so-fuckin'-annoying pink haired girl he'd kinda grown up with to the deepest depths of hell. But then back, because the deepest depths of hell was somewhere too far away.

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ｵ(･ｪ･)ﾔ(･ｪ-)ｽ(-ｪ･)ﾐ(-ｪ-)｡o○Zzz…

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Half asleep, he felt her move around the room silently, only the occasional rustle being heard—somehow this dream felt more realistic than usual. Something inside his mind kept trying to tell him something, but he ignored.

Shifting slightly, he was starting to doze off into a deeper sleep when he felt her kiss—as light as a feather. He blinked and caught a glimpse of pastel pink and emerald green, but his eyes felt too heavy to stay open.

Her fingers traced his jaw before her hand—soft and warm—cupped his cheek, her thumb slowly running across his cheek—he leaned into her hand. She was giving him a gentleness he didn't deserve—something he would never admit he craved.

Silk-soft tendrils of her hair ran across his face as she leaned her cheek against his other one. "I'm sorry." He almost didn't catch her whispered words—they made his almost unconscious state stir up and he focused his senses, he had a feeling he didn't want to miss this part of the dream.

His mind shouted at him to listen—he didn't.

Her lips pressed against his cheek before she ran her hand over his hair, pushing his bangs aside, and kissed his forehead. Running her fingers in feather-soft caresses over his face, she kissed his other cheek before cupping his face between both hands and leaving a trembling kiss on his lips—it felt bitter somehow, like a forever kind of goodbye.

"I love you Sasuke-kun." Her words were a pained whisper against his lips and he felt something moist fall on his cheek. "I'll never stop…"

Her lips trembled against him, and something inside him broke at her last whispered words—he refused to admit the reason for it even to himself.

When he woke up he was alone.

When he woke up it was as if he'd been alone from the very beginning.

When he woke up nothing in the room could hint at someone having ever been there with him.

The only proof he had that it was real was the fact he wasn't in his room.

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ヾ(´･ω･｀)いってらっしゃ～いっ

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Walking down the streets, he shoved his hands in his pockets and ignored the annoying man walking next to him.

"Dude, as in seriously, at least tell me to fuck off or somethin'." He sighed and glanced sideways at the shark blue haired water-nin.

"Fuck off Suigetsu." Said person rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the hair.

"Fuckin' Kami-sama, you're an ass, ya know that?" rolling his own eyes, he just shrugged.

"Not my business who you fuck." He kept walking, not even glancing back when he heard the distinct sound of Suigetsu chocking on his own breath. A faint smirk crossed his features, and he allowed himself an amused glance back when the water-nin yelled a string of profanities and insults after him. The ladies on the streets glanced sideways at them, some mothers covering their childrens' ears while old ladies gossiped.

When he turned back around to face the port he froze, halting his march, and just stared ahead, ignoring the rambling Suigetsu who had reached his side again.

He just stared, the world around him disappearing.

A hand waved in front of him.

"Oi! Oi Sasuke! Hey snap out of it dude!" the last sentence was accompanied by a shove in the shoulder and he snapped his gaze to the water nin, who looked puzzled by his sudden strange behavior.

Slightly shaking his head, he shrugged and looked back towards the docks. The only coherent thought that occurred to him was_ fuck my life_.

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ﾎﾟｯ(*ﾟ.ﾟ)(ﾟ.ﾟ*)ﾎﾟｯ

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"_I love you Sakura." Pressing himself impossibly closer to her, he buried his face in her tresses, lips against her jugular. "You're my hime." Her arms tightened around his shoulders and she buried her head against his shoulder._

_Kissing her neck in a somewhat innocent gesture, he sighed, his next words nothing more than a breath. "…always."_

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_Owari desu!_

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**End of Part VII**

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(✿◕‿◕)зｱ✿ﾘ✿ｶﾞ✿ﾄ✿ｳ✿ε(◕‿◕✿)з

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An open ending... What did you guys think?! Please let me know what you thought (.^u^.)

_**Answering reviews:**_

To _** Taichi09**_, I don't care if people have an account or not, all I want is what I write to be enjoyed, and for people to tell me what they think, so what does it matter if you have an account or not, right?! So, you're welcome!! ^.^

To _** Sakura's Indecision**_, I feel so extremely flattered that you started reading only because you liked the way I write, it makes me feel all fuzzy 'cause, writing being my outlet, I always try to make it as good as I can so… yeah, I feel really really flattered!! Thank you!! (^.^)

To _**guilty innocence101**_, your reviews really made me happy, and got me laughing too, eh, screw the original Naruto, I got a fanfic to read xD Seriously though, I ended up with a huge grin on my face after I read your reviews, I'm glad you could live the story, that's actually what I got for, 'cause, the way I see it, literature (be it something like a published book or fiction written by fans like I do) is supposed to be something you lose yourself into, something you live forgetting reality and everything around you, so I'm makes me go all smiley and giddy to know I could do it properly!! And yeah, Sasuke is a little pervy, but… what guy wouldn't have that reaction to a naked girl?!

To _**chikitets1016**_, it may seem like repetition, but every single review makes me happy, that I took the gloomy dark cloud over your head away—bah, stupid brothers, they always seem to want what's ours xD

To _**shai-duck**_, yeah, it would be fun to see his reaction when he realizes it's not a dream xD and yeah, eeewwww… Karin's a bitch, but whatever, Sakura took all the icky chakra away so now no more ewwness in Sasuke xD

To _**Perceptive Pawn**_, I try to keep m y characters as much in character as I can, and I also try to keep the plot as close to what could actually happen in the manga as I can—the closer it is to the original Naruto series, the better!! It's quite challenging to do that, but I always try to make it the best I can—needless to say, I feel extremely flattered you'd think Sasuke's character is accurate, he's quite the challenge to write because, when writing from his pov, I have to describe things in a somehow detached manner, with some superiority… and all that comes with Sasuke… Anyway, thank you, your review really means a lot!! (^w^)

To _**GodricGirl**_,… let me just say, your review made me go all emotional because… well, I' not even sure what to say… thank you maybe?! But just thank you doesn't even come close to covering it…

To start with something, you don't even know how absolutely flattering it is to having you say I'm better than Blade Redwind, who is one of my absolute favorite authors!! I hope you're liking The Bet, I had a great time reading it!! I'll give out a few new names of fics I love below, because I love them, so I want to share their awesomeness!! ^3^

Going back to your review, like I've said before, I try to keep things the more accurate as possible, so it makes me get a stupid grin stuck in my face when you, and other reviewers, tell me how I manage to keep everything realistic, accurate, in character…

Writing is as much a gift as it is a skill, in my case, it's a bit of both?... I 'unno, I don't consider it a gift, or I'd be able to write French properly and make proper texts in Portuguese (those 2 languages are my native ones)… I only write decently in English so… but anyway, my point is, if you start reading The longest year ever, the only other finished fic I have, you'll be able to see the difference between how I started and how I write now… I worked really hard to get to where I am now, I read a lot—as in **a lot**—and you wouldn't believe the amount of unfinished 'drafts I have on my hardrive and the amount of random, also unfinished, things I have on a huge amount of textbooks…

My point is, if you can imagine it and have the urge to write it, don't mind how crappy it comes out at first, the more you write and keep writing, the better you'll get at it!! (^.^) reading a lot helps improve your vocabulary, so just give it your best, I'm sure you can do it too!! Ganbatte!!

To finish off, and because this a/n's already long enough, you don't have to thank me for singling you out, it felt right to do so, so I did!! And again, Thank you, your review made me really really happy, I almost cried actually—the good kind of crying!!

K&H, _Azure Serenity_!

May 9th, 2010


	8. The Reviews

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ヽ(＾～＾)ノ ヽ(＾～＾)ノ

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**Scarlet Ambiguity – Answering the reviews**

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And so, Scarlet Ambiguity is over, but since I got so many absolutely amazing reviews, I decided to make this kinda-omake to answer my, dare I say it, fans?

God, just the thought of having fans makes me go all giddy! Hihi – ok, ignore the fangirl moment xD

Moving on…

So, starting with something a lot of you guys will want to know, and because I'm pretty sure most of you'll just read the first few lines and then close the page, I give you guys an official announcement!

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**Important: **Dear fans, after these few following weeks in which I have exams, I'll start working on a sequel—length unknown—for SA!

Good news right?

I'll keep you guys posted about it, just add me in msn or facebook or sth…

Anyway, now that you guys are all going omg, let's fastforward to when you start posting the story, I'll be answering the lovely reviews I got—and now gimme a sec, I need to click the previous button on media player 'cause I wanna listen to Uprising by Muse again =P

Ok, sidenote apart, now come the shoutouts and answers to reviews, and I'll also be talking about the plot of the story a little 'cause one of my reviews got a little confused with the time-line in the last chapter…

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**Shoutouts to:**

_**C.A.M.E.O.1 and Only**_, _**shai-duck**_,

_**Chantrea Moonbeam**_, _**gawashere,**_

_**Twisted Musalih**_, _**Nameless Blossom**_,

_**Taichi09**_, _**FuryanWarrior**_,

_**nakenochny**_, _**guilty innocence101**_,

_**nicthepunk**_, _**Sakura's Indecision**_,

_**Kaze and Kiba**_ and _** DivineSunSHiNE.**_!

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**Answering the reviews:**

To _**C.A.M.E.O.1 and Only**_, nah, Sasuke's self-denial doesn't start, it's more like it's becoming a lot more evident to everyone else that he's in self-denial haha as for Sakura, having her end up pregnant would be way too... done. I mean, nothing against her getting pregnant or anything, but the end up pregnant after a steamy tango between the sheets is way too overdone, so, nope, Sakura isn't gonna end up pregnant just like that.

Besides, c'mon people, Sakura's a talented medic, it's only logic that she'd be protected so she wouldn't end up pregnant, after all, what'd happen if she somehow got raped by an enemy? She's a high-ranked ninja, so she's protected to all and any scenarios.

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To _**shai-duck**_, your words were very flattering, so, I bow in thanks!

When I read something, I like unexpected things, if you read something and you end up knowing how it's gonna end when you start the fun in reading disappears, so I try to make things interesting!

I'm glad you thought the ending was fitting, you're one of the few that didn't ask for a sequel, so I'm gonna ask your advice, I'm planning on writing a sequel, but is it something I should do?

Anyway, thanks for the awesome review, and as for Sasuke's deepest darkest secret, the way I see it, Sasuke's love for Sakura is something he'd want to erase from his being completely, considering his personality, since, the way he sees it, positive feeling and emotions like friendship and love bring weekness.

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To _**Chantrea Moonbeam**_, I made an open ending 'cause that way it always leaves something up to the imagination of the reader, but I also know how it always leaves us wanting more—yeah, your unconscious mind is probably trying to find the genie in the lamp to have him make me write a sequel xD

By the way, and it feels like I keep saying this, I'm glad you like the way I write, I worked—and still do—really hard to make what I write as good as I possibly can!

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To _**Taichi09**_, let me start with huge OMG I loved you review! It made me grin like an idiot… it still does every time I re-read it haha =D

The happily-ever-after ending is way overused, besides kids, who believes in everything-is-perfect things? Life's a bitch and nothing's perfect, and since that's something I believe in, I couldn't end SA with the classic fairy tale ending. I'm really happy you like my writing and thing I did a good job keeping their personalities true to the originals, it's a major ego boost! =P

Anyway, if you miss me, just add me on msn! My email's on my profile page!

By the way, Sasuke wasn't the one to leave, Sakura was the one who left!

Oh, and… no! I don't know about the pelicans from outer space! =O

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To _**FuryanWarrior**_, and again, it makes me so immensely happy when you guys tell me how much you like what I write! =D

I am thinking of making a sequel, not right away, but I did leave the ending pretty open, so I'll make something, and really, ideas is something I absolutely don't lack xD

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To_** nakenochny**_, nyahaha, I'm not telling you what happens next xD

Tee-hee, you'll just have to wait 'til I get around to writing it haha

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To _** guilty innocence101**_, oh my dear Buddha, your review left me absolutely speechless and feeling all emotional and giddy and fluttery… I don't even know what to say without saying the same things over and over again, but even so, thank you, what you said really means a lot!

I do put a lot in my writing, I try to be the best I can be, and that you think so highly of it to the point of saying I could an author, well, that just left me feeling all mushy and… awed I guess, 'cause… well, I wouldn't mind writing a book—or several—someday, that way a lot more people could enjoy what I imagine and put into paper! (^.^)

That goes without saying, the most important thing to me, besides writing something decent, is for those who read it to enjoy it! I couldn't **not** reply to my reviewers!

Lastly, I feel really flattered that you liked the story so much you read it again and rated it so highly! Again, thank you!

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To _**Sakura's Indecision**_, calling those chapters a lemon doesn't degrade, the work is used as a classifier, and most of my story fits in the category, so don't worry about it! =D

Yeah, the apocalypse is coming for Sasuke to let out his love for Sakura, but let's give him some credit, the mission in that brothel-like-club, the pain, the monster, then the naked tango, more pain, getting healed, falling asleep, dreamlike scenarios… I think I couldn't make it hahaha, so let's give him a break for saying whatever he feels on his dreams xD

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To _**DivineSunSHiNE.**_, oh man, your review totally made me laugh! In comes a dramamtic "NOOOO!" haha

But now seriously, and really, keep your shit together =O 'cause….

Well, 'cause…. I **will** be doing a sequel! =D

So, really, keep me on the radar! /(^3^)\

And lastly…

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To _**Kaze and Kiba**_, my god, I don't even know where to start! Your reviews—4 in 1 day, man I was so freakin' happy—were all amazing!

I'll start with this, no, I absolutely don't mind you pointing out about the boots/shoes mishap, it just goes to show how into the story you were! I'm actually thankful you pointed it out, I'm gonna fix that as soon as I stop being stressed because of exams and shit, those little things get on my nerves too, so, thanks!

Yay to me, nobody died xD

Ok, don't mind the random randomness above… --"

Seriously though, I'm glad you liked my Sasuke, he's very challenging to write, but it's fun to make myself see the world from his point of view for a while =P

You know, I think I will have Sasuke stalking Sakura in the sequel hahaha, that'd be fun, especially if Suigetsu tags along without really knowing Sasuke's actually stalking someone… haha, I just got myself a nice mental image for a random scene—don't tell anyone though xD

As a sidenote, don't worry about the reading lemons thing, I'm not gonna judge anyone for reading something spicy—we're all adults here… well, I think, but anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading something that involves the naked tango! Hahaha

Anyway, I'll have to go check out your stories =P and I'll make sure to review too (^w^)

And now, the last part of this Authors' Note thingy, because one of my reviewers asked me to, here's a short resume of what happened in the last chapter… I know that sometimes timeskips can be confusing so I don't mind doing this! ^.^

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**The final chapter in less words:**

Still in the mission timeline, we have Sasuke and Sakura sharing a tender moment of love, clinging to one another as tightly as possible. Upon reaching his climax, Sasuke reveals his deepest, darkest secret.

A little while later, we have Sasuke, more than half-asleep on the bed, ignoring his rational mind that told him it wasn's a dream, as Sakura leaves a light and biter kiss on his lips as she whisper that her love for him will never stop.

One of her tears falls on his cheek, and something inside of him breaks—even though he refuses to admit it even to himself.

When he wakes up, he wakes up alone, with everything in the room screaming that no one was there, the only proof it had been real was that he wasn't in his room.

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In the future, we have Sasuke waking up in a jolt in his bed in a nice little port village, he gets up, not in a very good mood. The sun is rising, and as the scent of cherry blossoms is carried by the wind, he curses.

After that, he forces himself under the freezing cold water of the shower, not even bothering to take his clothes off until his body starts to numb—regardless of what he did, his thoughts kept being consumed by Sakura.

Shower over, it's revealed that Sasuke has come to hate routines as he walks through the village, cursing Sakura to hell. But then back 'cause hell would be too far away.

Lastly, we see him walking through the streets towards the port with Suigetsu. They slightly antagonize each other with words—from Sasuke—and insults—from Suigetsu—until Sasuke freezes upon seeing something at the port.

Suigetsu tries to get him out of his daze unsuccessfully.

The last thing we're given to know is that Sasuke's only coherent thought is _fuck my life_.

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I'll end things here, for now 'cause if someone else reviews I'll most likely answer them here, but aanyway…

As for the sequel, the only thing I'll say is that, of course, there'll be no clichéd overused plots, you can count on it! =P


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